


Young as the Morning, Old as the Sea

by ismisesarah



Category: To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-05-15 20:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ismisesarah/pseuds/ismisesarah
Summary: Maycomb was the tiredest old town Jean had ever known.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a previously published piece of mine under a different title. I removed it for editing and to generally spruce it up a little but here it is again!

Turning from the kitchen counter top, Louise Graham fixed her youngest child with a lethal glare. "Jean! Go right back upstairs and change your dress! You aren't leaving this house wearing that. Wear one of those pretty new things you bought last week, for heaven's sake!" She chided her daughter before she had taken five steps into the kitchen.

Jean held off on rolling her eyes until her back was safely to her mother. "Good mornin' to you too, mother dear." She said, sarcastically, flashing an amused grin to her sister who was already sat at the table.

Louise was infamous within the family for how she loved complaining. Jean often wondered how her mother could always find something to complain about. If it wasn't the height of the heel on Jean's shoes ("you wouldn't look out of place on a street corner wearing those"), it was Catherine's make up ("you look like a raccoon! Get back up those stairs and wash it off!), or Barney's shenanigans while he was at college ("for heaven's sakes, Barney. You're training to be a lawyer! Stop this foolish carry on or they'll throw you out!). Even her husband Samuel was at the receiving end of his wife's criticism from time to time ("we moved to this dull ol' place because the doctor told you to slow down. If you take on this case you might as well call the undertaker yourself!) There didn't seem to be anything on God's earth that could appease Louise, which made tormenting her that little bit easier on her children.

"Jean, I'm serious. I'll be damned if you leave this house wearing _that_." Louise ran her eyes over Jean's dress as if it were emitting the foulest smell.

"You never had a problem when I wore it in Montgomery. In fact, I think you were there and actually liked it when I picked it out. You said it brought out my eyes." Jean replied, feigning innocence as she poured herself some coffee. Behind her, she could almost imagine her sister sitting laughing silently at the kitchen table. It was a type of game between them all to see what they could do to push their mother's buttons.

"Things were different in Montgomery. What was acceptable there won't be as acceptable here, Jean. Maycomb has a different set of standards and that dress is far too short to meet any of them." Louise continued, her voice becoming firm.

"Oh, Jean, it would just be a _scandal_! Won't you please think of the _children_!." Catherine added. Together the both of them could drive their mother crazy.

"You hush, Kitty!" Louise said, somewhat harshly.

Jean turned with her mug of coffee clasped in her hands and glanced down at her dress. It was light pink and was just a tiny bit shorter than what was considered appropriate. If she were being honest, she had been feeling rather devious that morning and selected the dress just to annoy her mother. As far as Louise was concerned, a woman's knees were for kneeling before the Lord, not for being displayed to men who weren't their husbands.

"What's wrong, Mama?" Jean continued to tease her. "Are you worried that Mr Finch might think I'm makin' a move on him? That he might be so overcome with desire at seeing my knees he's unable to control himself?" She smirked as she watched her mother scowl, deciding to torment her that little bit more. "You don't need to worry. The man's practically seen me naked and didn't so much as bat an eye."

Louise straightened up and looked aghast at her daughter. "Jean Graham, you better explain yourself immediately! What exactly do you be doin' in that office!? I told your father it was no place for a lady to be working."

Jean could see exactly the argument her mother was preparing to lay down in front of her. She had been furious when her husband had arrived home one evening about a week after their move, telling both Louise and Jean how he had managed to secure a job for their daughter. While Jean had initially been excited at the prospect of actually earning her own living, Louise had been appalled at the idea of one of her daughters' working outside the home. In Louise's mind, Jean and Catherine would aspire to be housewives and nothing more. It seemed to be working with Catherine at least, but Louise hadn't counted on her youngest child being so headstrong. She had said how Samuel had basically ruined Jean's chances of ever finding a husband. What man would want to marry a woman who worked outside the home?

She shrugged her shoulders at her mother. "One mornin' I got caught in the rain when I was walking to the office. My dress got soaked through and I had to change. Mr Finch never batted an eye. Thank the Lord I had my nice underwear on." Jean told her, taking a sip of her coffee so her mother wouldn't see her smirk. At the kitchen table, Catherine choked on her tea.

Louise's hand flew to her heart and her face went deathly pale. "Jean...Jean Graham!" She could barely get her daughter's name out. "Your father and I didn't raise you...you should know better...what an absolute disgrace...you _work_ with the man!" She couldn't form a coherent thought in the shock of what her daughter had just said.

"Jean, put her out of her misery before you actually kill her this time. I'm too tired to help you move the body." Catherine spoke, though she was grinning at her mother's torment.

Jean let out a cackle. "Mama, I'm just teasing you. That never happened. He would at least have to buy me dinner first before I took my dress off."

Louise composed herself and shook her head. "You are on a first class ticket straight to hell, child. There's nothin' the Lord can do to save your soul." She said, although Jean saw a faint smile at the corner of her lips. Why she and her sister and brother took such joy in tormenting their mother, she didn't know, but their father often said they'd be the reason she was put in an early grave.

"What are you two ladies arguing about this mornin'?" Samuel Graham's voice then drifted from the hall into the kitchen.

In Jean's opinion her father was the best lawyer to ever come out of Montgomery. He had established his own practice in the centre of the city and it had thrived as Samuel became known for both his skill and discretion. Samuel had specialised in criminal law, and as such had had his fair share of gruelling and taxing cases, each one draining him of more energy than the last. He had continued to successfully practice in the city until four months ago when his doctor advised that he needed a slower pace, lighter cases, and a good change of scenery if he wanted to see his grandchildren. Samuel's blood pressure was unusually high and his heart wasn't beating as it should be. A change of lifestyle was needed to prevent the worst from happening, and so the Graham family had arrived in Maycomb.

"This morning we are discussing the length of your daughter's dress." Louise said, looking again with disdain at Jean's hemline.

Samuel winked at his daughter. "I think her dress is fine."

Jean beamed at him. She knew she could always count on him to argue her side. She was his youngest daughter and so naturally had been daddy's little girl since the moment she was born.

"Of course you would." Louise replied, a little venom in her voice as she placed her husband's breakfast on the table. "I never get any support in this house." She muttered to herself, turning back to the stove.

Jean smirked over her shoulder at Catherine, who nodded encouragingly for her to keep going. "Mama thinks that Mr Finch is gonna have his wicked way with me because my dress is too short. She thinks he won't be able to control himself at the sight of my very alluring knees." She explained to her father, watching as her mother wheeled back around.

"I think no such thing! Jean Graham, I'll have you soap your mouth out one of these days!"

"They are very nice knees, though." Catherine said, casually, not looking up from her porridge.

Louise opened her mouth to scold her oldest daughter, but Samuel placed his hands on her shoulders. "Lou, breathe." He said calmly, kissing his wife's head. "They're only teasing, aren't you both?" He said, making it more a statement than a question as he sat down.

"Mama, you know we're only teasing. Mr Finch prefers blondes, anyway." She added, nodding towards Catherine's blonde curls.

Louise sighed. "For the love of all that is holy, don't bring her into this. That would be a scandal when she's already courting someone."

Catherine looked up suddenly. "I am _not_ courting him, Mama, will you stop tellin' people that!"

Louise ignored her oldest daughter's outburst, softening a little as she placed her hands on Jean's shoulders. "Honey, I just worry about you. People in Montgomery knew you since you were a foot high, they knew you had a bit of a rebellious streak in you. People here in Maycomb just mightn't be used to your...boldness." Louise selected her words carefully. "Especially not that bat Stephanie Crawford who lives around the corner."

Jean couldn't prevent herself from laughing. "Mama, we've been livin' here for nearly two months. I think I've done all I can do to rile that Stephanie up. Although, Maudie who lives across the street did suggest that I take a stroll in a pair of shorts to see what her reaction would be."

Her mother scowled at her again. "The day you leave this house in shorts is the day they put me in my coffin." She said, her voice returning to its usual hardness.

Jean raised her hands in defence. "I didn't say I was gonna do it. I just said it would be funny." She smirked again as she headed towards the table and her father. "Maybe I'll wear some shorts to the office today instead of my dress. Maybe that'll make Mr Finch actually say somethin' more that "good mornin', Miss Graham" to me." She said, earning her a slap to her rear from her mother's tea towel.

"Devil child." She heard her mother mutter as she joined her father and sister.

"Stop tormentin' her." Samuel said with a little smile of his own as she sat. "And stop talkin' about Mr Finch like that. He's a good man. I don't want his reputation destroyed because of one of your cruel jibes at him."

Jean crossed her arms in front of her on the table and scoffed at her father. "As if he'd even notice if I came in wearing a pair of shorts. Daddy, he's so _boring_! I can't keep a conversation going with him half the time. In the time I've been working with him all I've found out is that he has a brother called Jack. Why do I have to work for him? Why can't I be your secretary instead? I'd rather do anything that work with that ol' fuddy duddy."

"Jean, stop complaining. It's not becomin' of a lady." Louise chastised her, causing Jean to meet her father's eye in disbelief.

"I learned from the best." She muttered under her breath so her mother wouldn't hear her, her father giving her a light slap to her hand, but even he was smiling.

"I already have a secretary, and he was in need of one. You should count yourself lucky, Jeannie. Lots of girls would give their right arm to have a job like you. You should be counting your blessings." He replied.

"Daddy, I swear! If I had imaginary friends they'd hold a better conversation than he does!"

"Jean, that's enough. Listen to your father and be thankful. You were grateful for this job when you first got it, I can't see what's changed." Louise berated her once more as she lifted her coffee mug.

"Alright, I'm sorry." Jean eyed her father. "I won't say anything more about Mr Finch. I'm gonna go now, but if I'm not back for dinner then you know he's bored me to death. That or his brother has come riding in and I've eloped with him just for something to do. I'll be Jean Finch next time you see me." She stood, kissed her father's cheek and made her way out of the kitchen.

"And she didn't even change her dress." Catherine said with a shake of her head, listening to Jean say she'd invite them all to the wedding as she bounced out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Maycomb was without a doubt the tiredest old town Jean had ever known. If it hadn't been necessary for the sake of her father's health, she would have put up more of a fight concerning their move from Montgomery. There was just nothing to _do_ in the town. At least in Montgomery she had been able to wander around freely with her sister and talk to people as they passed them by. People in Montgomery had known them since they were able to walk and always stopped to ask how they were, or how Louise and Samuel were, or how Barney was finding college. To Maycomb, she and Catherine were still the outsiders, so no one made much of an effort to get to know them.

By far the most boring day was Sunday. It started with an early rise for church, then came dinner, which was then followed by afternoon visits from nosy neighbours wanting to get all the information they could on the new family. Nearly a month had passed since their move, yet some of the neighbours still believed that they were harbouring some dark secret. Jean had heard all their whispers. It varied from she had been jilted at the altar and so the family had moved to spare her the shame that came along with that, to the family were secretly Catholic. Jean found Sunday visiting to be excruciating, but Louise forced her daughters to sit through these visits no matter how much they protested.

"If you both want to make any friends in this town, you'll sit where you are! Half the town is already convinced you're both a pair of devil worshippers with the way you dress!" She had half spat at them when they began their routine Sunday ritual of trying to get out of visiting.

"Actually, Mama, they think we're Catholic." Catherine had replied, giving up on fighting their mother. "Maybe I'll convert to really get them talkin'." She added under her breath.

Jean thought her mother was being a little harsh. While it was true that a lot of Maycomb still gave them a wide berth, she and Catherine had both made quick friends with two ladies, Maudie Atkinson and Rachel Haverford, within their first week of moving to Maycomb. They were both warm and friendly women who did everything they could to help the new family settle in as quickly as possible. Their doors were always open if both girls were stuck for something to do, and Maudie had already insisted on showing them both how to bake a Lane cake one Saturday afternoon. Even though they both a great deal older than both Jean and Catherine, Maudie by at least ten years, they were both exceptionally welcoming to both of them. Maudie was loud and had a brash sense of humour; Rachel was demure and kept more to herself. They both contrasted each other wildly, but the four of them became fast friends.

They were both a far cry from the batty Stephanie Crawford who lived just across from Maudie. Jean had known and met some gossips while she lived in Montgomery, but Stephanie took the biscuit with her ability to spread absolute nonsense about everyone in the neighbourhood. She had heard it from Maudie how, according to Stephanie, Jean and her family had moved abruptly from Montgomery as her father was on the run from the police for dodgy legal practice. Jean had been ready to storm across the street to Stephanie's, no one spoke about her daddy like that, and had to actually be restrained by Maudie. According to her, Stephanie wasn't worth losing sleep over. Everyone in Maycomb and two towns over knew she couldn't be held as a legitimate source of information. Still, she made Jean's blood boil.

It was after Sunday afternoon visiting that Jean would usually wander aimlessly around the small town, sometimes accompanied by Catherine and sometimes not. Her older sister had her bouts of moodiness, sometimes wanting to be around people and sometimes just wanting to be on her own, but Jean never strayed from her Sunday routine. It helped her get a feel of the place and a sense of actually belonging there. She would try to talk to the few people who happened to be out and about, eager to form relationships and friendships within the town, but more than often she found herself in the town green, sitting on one of the benches and watching the world go by.

Catherine had decided to accompany her this particular evening, finding that Louise was being especially impossible to be around owing to Catherine spilling sweet tea over the sofa and Stephanie that afternoon. Samuel had advised them to stay out until dinner to give their mother time to calm herself. He'd do what he could to make her see that Stephanie's dress would be just fine.

"Lord, I don't think I've ever seen Mama so mad. I thought she would actually go and get Daddy's belt and whip me." Catherine laughed, thinking back to their mother's furious reaction. She had bundled them both out of the room as quickly as possible to prevent any further embarrassment on her part.

"I think you should count yourself lucky there were so many witnesses present. If it hadn't been for the ladies she'd probably still be working at you." Jean joined her sister in laughing. As if Louise stood any chance of actually catching Catherine to give her a whipping.

When their laughter subsided, they both slid into comfortable silence, both seemingly content to just sit quietly watching the world go by. It would be a little while yet before they would have to set off home to be there in time for supper, and Jean found these Sunday afternoons spent in the green gave her time to think. She thought about Montgomery and how she missed it, she thought of how boring Atticus Finch was and how that job would be the death of her, and she sometimes thought about how life would have been for them if her father didn't have a bad heart. They would still be living in Montgomery as they should be, not stuck in some lifeless old town where there was nothing for her. At least in Montgomery she'd had options and opportunities. There was nothing in Maycomb. She could see herself ending up like Stephanie living on her own with nothing better to do than gossip about all the neighbours. She could imagine how her deeply religious mother would love that.

"You know," her sister broke the silence. "I've been doing a lot of thinkin' lately."

"I was wondering why you always seemed to look like you were straining yourself recently," Jean teased her.

Catherine stared blankly at her. "Thank the Lord you're pretty cause you sure as hell aren't funny," she said simply. "No, I've been thinkin' that...that I wanna be like you."

Jean turned her head, looking at her sister and trying not to laugh. "What? Where in God's name is that coming from? Why the hell do you want to be like me"

Catherine sighed impatiently as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're nineteen and you're out there making your own money. It mightn't be a lot, but it's still your own. You don't have to depend on anyone. I'm twenty-one and still relying on Mama and Daddy for everything. You know that Mama's been trying to mould us into these little featherbrains since the time we were both thirteen. She was gonna find us a man to marry and make it so we wouldn't have to worry our pretty little heads about anything. You managed to break away from all that, but she's still trying with me. I don't want the life she wants for me. I want my own life," she explained, sounding angrier with every word she said.

"Well, what's stopping you? You can go and get a job somewhere like I did. Why don't you ask Daddy? I'm sure there's plenty of offices in need of a secretary and..."

"I don't just want a job, Jean!" Catherine interrupted her, growing more exasperated by the second. "I want to go to college."

Jean couldn't help the look of shock that crossed her face at Catherine's revelation. No woman in their family had ever gone to college, it just wasn't the done thing. They looked after the home and that was it. Louise would keel over at the thought of Catherine wanting to attend college.

Quickly concealing the look of shock before hurting her sister, she smiled at her. "I think you should," she said simply. "You've always had brains, I think you'd be able to handle college."

Catherine gave her a dry laugh. "I'm sure Mama would be just as understanding as you are. She'd probably bolt my door to prevent me from even leaving the house."

"You could ask Daddy. You know he doesn't think like the rest of 'em, I'm sure he'd be thrilled at the thought of you wanting to go to college and actually make somethin' of yourself."

"Daddy, yeah. Mama, not so much," Catherine replied shaking her head. "I just think there's more to being a woman than havin' to look after a house and a husband and children. I think I'm capable of more than that," she said fiercely.

"Talk to Daddy about it. I'm positive that he'll be able to work somethin' out. And, if not, well Mama can't really stop you, can she? You're not a child anymore, you can do what you want. Don't let her stand in the way of what you want. You're the one living your life, not her," Jean tried to offer the best advise she could. She was proud of her sister. She was proud that she was trying to fight against the life their mother would fiercely push on her. With enough determination, she knew Catherine would be able to break free from Louise's smothering hold.

Catherine scoffed and kicked the ground with her shoe. "Maybe. I hope so. Is it terrible of me to want somethin' more for myself?"

Jean reached out and rubbed her knee. "No, it definitely isn't. Somethin' will work out for you, don't worry. But, if it doesn't, you can always take my place at Mr Finch's office when he eventually does bore me to death," she added, making Catherine laugh. "Now, c'mon. Mama will be getting dinner served and she really will whip us both if we aren't home on time."

She grasped her sister's hand as they made their way back through the town, meeting few on their way. When they finally did arrive through their front door, it was to the sound of their father laughing heartily and talking away to someone in the living room. As Jean listened closer, she realised it was a voice she recognised all too well. What in the world was he doing here?

"Why is Mr Finch here? Did you do somethin' awful at work? Don't tell me, that story you spun about changing your dress in front of him was actually true," Catherine asked, returning to her usual teasing.

"Yeah, that's why Daddy's laughing." Jean responded sarcastically, giving her sister a whack on the arm. "He probably needs daddy's help with somethin'," she shrugged and made her way towards the kitchen and Louise, preparing herself for her mother's lingering foul mood.

"There you two are." Louise said by way of greeting as they entered the kitchen. "Here," she thrusted some plates into Catherine's hands, "take these through to the dining room and set an extra place. Rest assured your father will ask Mr Finch to stay for supper. If only he had told me he was coming over sooner..." She trailed off and turned back to the stove. Catherine rolled her eyes at Jean and pushed through the swinging door to disappear through to the dining room.

"Mama, why is Mr Finch here?" Jean asked. They had been living in Maycomb nearly a month and he hadn't made any previous house calls. What had happened to bring them on now?

"Honey, how would I know? Probably some legal matter that I don't care to know about. Lord, I hope the man likes chicken," Louise replied absently, returning to bustling around the kitchen.

Jean asked no more and instead busied herself with collecting knives and forks from the cutlery drawer. How painfully awkward would it be to have supper with her boss? Perhaps he'd politely decline and head home after he was finished talking with her father. She hoped.

"Louise?" She heard her father call as he came through from the living room. "Would you be able to set an extra place for Atticus here? I couldn't very well let the man go home to an empty house when he's doing me a favour." Samuel asked, coming through the door with Atticus following closely behind.

Louise put on her best company smile. "I've already got Catherine makin' up a place. As if I'd be rude enough not to ask you to stay, Mr Finch," she looked at Atticus who smiled politely back.

"Thank you, Mrs Graham. I hope I'm not imposing," he said, still with the same gracious smile which had Jean rolling her eyes.

"Not at all, Mr Finch."

"You already know our Jeannie, Atticus. I'm sure if things get too dry you and her will have somethin' to talk about." Samuel clamped his arm around Jean's shoulder, giving a sly dig to her comments about Atticus' inability to keep a conversation going.

Jean looked warily between her father and her boss, something that didn't go unseen by Samuel. "No need to look so nervous, honey. Atticus is just taking some things to Montgomery for me and taking some papers back when he goes there for the Legislature. You haven't done anything," he teased her.

"Your daughter is the best secretary I've ever had," Atticus said kindly, giving her a warm smile.

"I'm the only secretary you've ever had. You told me that yourself," Jean said back.

"And therefore the best."

"You only pick the best, isn't that right, Atticus?" Her father winked at him. "Come on through to the dining room. There's still a little somethin' I need to ask you about somethin' that's being..." His voice trailed off as he took Atticus through the swinging door.

It was going to be a long dinner.

oOoOoOo

Owing to Atticus being in Montgomery for three weeks for the Legislature, Jean wasn't needed at his office until he came back. For three weeks she would be forced to spend her days at home with her mother doing a slew of things she really would prefer not to. She didn't know what Catherine did during her days, but she was never at home with them. For the most past, it was just her and her mother.

She'd been forced to accompany her mother to the Jitney Jungle, listening to her ramble on insensately about ingredients and recipe's she would need to know once she started keeping her own house. She was only half paying attention as her mother went on and on, her mind wondering whether or not Catherine had brought up the idea of college to their father. He was really the only person who could make it a reality for her, so she hoped her sister had done something to put the wheels in motion. If not, she'd also be forced to spend her time the way Jean was now: bored out of her mind and actually wishing she was back in Mr Finch's office.

Once her mother had decided that all the errands in town had been completed, it was back home to do Lord knows what. Jean wondered how the hell her mother continously found things to do during the day. If she was forced to spend her entire day every day at home she was sure she would lose her mind. There were only so many times the house could be cleaned. It was when she was standing in the middle of the living room looking vainly for something to do that her father walked in from work at least two hours early.

"Samuel, what on earth are you doing home at this time? It's only three o'clock," Louise pointed out the obvious, coming through from the kitchen at the sound of the door banging shut.

"Doctors orders," Samuel replied, sounding exhausted. "Dr Reynolds thinks I'm takin' on too much with this case, he told me to close up early. I just need to rest, Lou, don't look so worried," He forced a laugh. Jean could only imagine the worried look on her mother's face.

She heard her mother tut as she turned to head back through to the kitchen. "I told you myself before you took that damned case on. You might as well call the undertaker yourself because it's gonna kill you. Mark my words, Samuel, it's going to kill you."


	3. Chapter 3

"Lou, I'm _fine_. You said yourself that gettin' back into a routine will be the one thing that helps. I'm feelin' just fine. Don't worry so much," the last thing Samuel Graham said before he left for the office that morning.

Three hours later he was found dead from a heart attack.

It had been a total shock for everyone, even though his family were fully aware of his bad heart. They had thought that their move to Maycomb along with the less demanding cases he took on would reduce the strain, but that sadly wasn't the case. Samuel had followed Dr Reynolds' orders and stayed in bed for several days to allow his body to rest, saying that he felt completely better on the morning he died. Dr Reynolds had been over to check his heart, telling Samuel that it still wasn't beating as it should be, but it shouldn't be anything to get too worried about provided he kept taking the medication prescribed. As long as he took things easy and reduced his workload he should be fine. He'd permitted Samuel to go back to work on the condition he only stay in the office for four hours at the beginning, gradually building it up until the doctor was certain his body could handle it.

Samuel had agreed to his conditions and came downstairs that Thursday morning eager to get back to work. Jean thought her father looked a little pale and seemed a little short of breath, but other than that he seemed to be in good enough shape and spirits. Louise had encouraged his return to the office, saying the sooner he was back into his regular routine the better it would be for him. Of course, she had also echoed the doctor's warnings and told her husband not to overdo it, maybe take on a few up and coming young lawyers to help with his workload.

He'd left as usual after breakfast, telling them all he'd see them there for dinner, and teasingly telling his daughters to behave themselves. He'd kissed them all goodbye and they had watched him walk from the house, none of them knowing that it would be the last time they would see him alive.

After Samuel had left and Catherine had snuck out to wherever it was she spent her days, Jean and her mother went about their usual routine. Jean had cleaned the house for what seemed to be the hundredth time that week, washed some clothes, and then made a start on dinner while her mother found yet another errand that had to be ran in town. Jean had remained behind, cutting and chopping vegetables and counting down the days until she could return to the office and do something useful when the phone rang. Expecting it to be her brother Barney calling from college, she quickly threw down her knife and ran to pick up the receiver.

"Hello?" She answered eagerly, waiting to hear her brother on the other end. But it wasn't his voice that answered her.

"Mrs Graham?" She recognised Dr Reynolds' voice come through the phone.

"No, this is Jean. Mama is out running errands. Is everything alright, doctor?" She asked.

"I'm sorry, Miss Graham." His voice was worryingly bleak on the other end. "Could you please find your mother and come to my office? As quickly as you possibly can."

Jean felt her heart sink. Something was wrong. "Yes, of course I will. Doctor, is everything alright?" She asked again, not missing how he had dodged her question.

On the other end of the phone, she heard him sigh. "No. No, it's not. Go and find your mother, child," he said gently, and the line went dead.

Shakily, Jean returned the receiver to the side of the phone. Something awful must have happened if the doctor couldn't even inform her over the phone. Why hadn't she spoken up when she noticed how short of breath her father was that morning? Perhaps something had happened to him? Perhaps he had collapsed and had to be taken to hospital? Maybe he was sicker than they had thought. Louise would hate that. If there was one thing her mother detested, it was a change in routine. Having to change her schedule to accommodate daily hospital visits would surely drive her mad.

As quickly as she could, Jean hurried from the house, not even taking the time to stop and close the front door behind her. She dashed through the town looking in every shop doorway for her mother, ignoring everyone who tried to stop her and ask what the matter was. She finally found her mother in the grocers and raced up the aisle to her side. When Louise saw her daughter coming barreling towards her at full speed, her face immediately set in disapproval.

"Jean, for goodness sakes! You're nearly twenty years old, I shouldn't have to tell you to _walk_!" Her mother scolded her in a harsh whisper, looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed her fall from grace.

"Mama!" Jean panted, desperately trying to catch her breath. "Mama, Dr Reynolds called. He wants us at his office. He said somethin' is wrong," she finally managed to get out.

"For goodness sakes, it's probably Kitty sayin' she's coming down with somethin' to get out of having to sit through Stephanie comin' over for tea tomorrow. Get yourself together, child!" Louise shook her head and returned to whatever it was she had been doing before.

"No, Mama, he sounded serious. He said we had to go to his office as quickly as possible. We have to go!" She said again, pulling on her mother's arm to get her moving.

She half dragged her mother across town to Dr Reynolds' office, only half listening when Louise said there would be hell to pay if it was just Catherine making a fuss over nothing. In her heart, Jean knew it wasn't something as trivial as that. Something was very wrong, something that couldn't be fixed.

When they finally made it to Dr Reynolds' surgery, he came through to meet them with a somber expression, something that Louise either didn't seem to notice or was choosing to ignore.

"Well, doctor, where is she? What's she sayin' is wrong with her this time?" She asked, looking around the room for Catherine.

Dr Reynolds looked confused and briefly glanced at Jean. "I'm sorry? Where is who, Mrs Graham?"

"Kitty," Louise replied almost impatiently. "This is what this is, isn't it? She's come here sayin' she feels ill when there's nothin' wrong with her. Lord, when I get my hands on that girl!"

A pained expression came over Dr Reynolds' face as he watched Louise continue to look for Catherine. "Mrs Graham, Catherine isn't here, this has nothin' to do with her. It's about Samuel."

"Is he here? Is he feelin' sick again? Maybe it was too soon for him to be going back to work. Maybe he should take a couple of weeks away from the office, it might be the only thing that helps him. I don't want this gettin' worse, doctor, it was the reason we left Montgomery."

Dr Reynolds cleared his throat. "Mrs Graham, I'm so very sorry to have to be the one to tell you this. Samuel was found dead in his office about an hour ago. It's lookin' like it was a heart attack. There's nothin' anyone could have done to prevent it. I'm so sorry." He explained as tactfully as he could.

Whatever Louise had been expecting to hear, it hadn't been the death of her husband. As soon as the sentence had left the doctor's mouth, Louise went completely rigid before collapsing into her daughter's arms. She didn't cry, only stared open mouthed at the doctor.

"No." She said in almost a whisper. "No, no, no. No!" She clutched at Jean, her head on her daughter's shoulder as she began to sob. While Louise was a mostly closed off person, she had loved her husband fiercely. They had married when Louise was eighteen and been with each other through every up and down life could throw at them: a cancer scare when Louise was only twenty-two, when she miscarried twins at twenty-four, Samuel's brief period of unemployment, and then his heart problem years later. They had been each other's rocks. It seemed like right now, Louise couldn't picture herself going on without him.

Jean found herself completing freezing, acting almost on autopilot as she placed her arms around her mother. She had known from the onset that something bad had to have happened when Dr Reynolds called, but she hadn't in a million years expected to hear that her father had dropped dead. She had believed him to have years left in him, he wasn't that old. It was as if she completely shut down. She couldn't move, she couldn't comfort her mother, she found that she couldn't even cry for the man who had been her hero. She couldn't feel anything anymore.

oOoOoOo

Samuel was waked in his home for two days, with Jean never leaving her vigil by the side of his coffin. It didn't seem real. Even when she could plainly see her father lying in his coffin beside her, it didn't seem real. She still expected and waited for him to sit straight up and say that he'd really gotten them that time. How could her daddy, her rock and her hero, be dead? The man who had carried her round Montgomery on his shoulders, who had always bought her ice cream despite Louise's warning that he do no such thing, who had built her a life-size wooden dollhouse one summer in the garden, who had been on her side since the day she was born. How could he be gone before she even had time to blink? How could he be gone before even having the chance to say goodbye? Her mind just couldn't accept it.

She was angry. She was angry at the doctor for not being able to save her daddy. Why hadn't he been able to do anything? People had heart attack all the time and lived to tell the tale. Why was her daddy the one who wasn't coming back? She was angry at him, too. How could he die when his family still needed him? He had a son about to graduate and join his law firm and two daughters ready to begin making their way in the world. How could he leave them when they still needed him so much? How could he do it to them? She was angry at her mother for not being angry, she was angry at Catherine for Lord only knew what reason, she was angry at everyone.

She bargained. She prayed to God night and day since his death to send her daddy back. She would do anything if it meant she would wake up in the morning and he'd be there. She'd quit her job at Mr Finch's office and marry whoever the hell her mother wanted to if it meant she would have her daddy. She'd do just about anything if it meant her daddy would come back. She knew it was pointless. She knew he wouldn't ever be coming back, but it didn't stop her from trying.

Then she was just sad. The type of sad that made her completely numb as friends and neighbours came to pay their respects. They had only lived in the town for little over a month, but Samuel had already built up a clientele and made a great deal of friends among the community. With them came flowers and words of comfort, but Jean didn't see or hear them. All she could focus on for two days was the still form of her father in his coffin. Her father who wasn't coming back no matter how hard she prayed.

She still hadn't cried since his death.

On the day of his funeral she found she couldn't be in the room as the nails were put in his coffin. She couldn't watch as her father was locked inside a wooden box never to be seen again. There was only one person she wanted to talk to about her father's death, and he was about to be carried away from her forever.

Throughout the funeral service she sat clutching the hands of her brother and sister. Barney had made the hasty journey home from college at hearing of his father's death, and had been a rock for his mother and sisters to cling to. Jean wasn't sure how she would have gotten through the whole ordeal without him. She sat numbly through the whole service, not hearing any of the sermon, and not even reacting when her mother completely erupted and Maudie had to move into the pew to comfort her. Still, she didn't cry.

When the service was finally over and the coffin was being carried to the adjacent cemetery for burial, Jean slipped away from her family and took herself back through town home. She knew she'd never hear the end of it from her mother, but she couldn't bring herself to watch her father be placed in the ground. It was like the final vicious reminder that he was gone forever. She didn't want to see the coffin be lowered in, she didn't want to see the gravediggers begin to shovel dirt in on top of him, she didn't want to the headstone with his name and death date engraved upon it. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to him yet.

oOoOoOo

In the days following Samuel's funeral, Louise announced that she was going to Montgomery. For just how long, she didn't know. She had to go back and get Samuel's affairs in order and see the family lawyer about his will. She didn't want either of her daughters to accompany her, something Jean was glad to hear. She hadn't left the house since her father's funeral and didn't intend to do so anytime soon. All she wanted was to be left alone with her memories no matter how unhealthy it was.

"Jean, will you take that damned thing off, for goodness sakes. You look disgraceful." Louise's departing words to her daughter before leaving for the city. Jean pretended as though she couldn't hear her. For the past few days, she had been wearing a shirt of her father's over a pair of trousers. She didn't care what her mother had to say, or how unladylike she looked, it helped her feel close to him.

After their mother left, it was mostly Jean and Catherine in the house alone. Barney had returned to college three days after Samuel's funeral, saying that he couldn't afford to be away for so long so close to his graduation. He was sure his father would want him to graduate, so Louise sent him back with her blessing. Any neighbours that called to see how they were holding up didn't stay long when it became obvious that neither Jean nor Catherine were up to much talking, so the house remained largely empty.

When there was the sound of someone knocking on the front door almost four days after Louise left, Jean was more than tempted to tell whoever it was to go to hell and leave them alone. She'd just about had it with the likes of Stephanie calling round under the guise of offering comfort when really all she wanted to do was spread gossip about "how those poor dears are coping". She wanted to damn them all to hell. Why couldn't they all just mind their own business and let her grieve the way she wanted to. She had to then quickly bite her tongue when it turned out to be Atticus Finch standing on her front porch.

"Miss Graham," he said cordially when she answered, taking off his hat and offering her a polite smile. "How are you? I stopped to give your father the papers he asked me to bring him back, but he wasn't at his office. I thought maybe he'd left early and I'd find him here?"

Jean stared straight at him and wondered if he was playing some kind of sick joke on her, but then she quickly remembered he had been in Montgomery for the past three weeks. He had no idea that her father was dead. Seemingly, no one had thought to inform him when they saw him standing outside her father's office. How unlike Maycomb.

"My daddy's dead," she said plainly, moving to close the door but being unable to when he stopped it with his hand.

"What?" He asked, not being able to hide his expression of complete shock and disbelief. As she had guessed, he had no idea.

Sighing softly, Jean stood back to permit him to enter. "You better come in, Mr Finch," she said dully, not caring that she was wearing an old shirt and trousers, not caring that her hair was falling out of the bun she had put it in two days ago, not caring about anything. The quicker she got this all over with the quicker she could be left on her own again.

Silently, they made their way into Louise's immaculate living room, Atticus watching her every movement until they were both settled. He rested his hat on his knee and spoke before she had the chance to, fidgeting a little as if he didn't quite know what the protocol was in this sort of situation.

"I'm very sorry about a few moments ago. I...I had no idea your father had passed. If I had, I would have come straight back from Montgomery," he said quickly, looking ashamed of himself.

Jean couldn't even bring herself to smile at his kindness. "Thank you," she said in barely a whisper, her fingers pulling at a loose thread on one of the cushions rested in her lap. She didn't know what else to say. Then it got silent, but it wasn't awkward. She had grown to love the silence, at least then no one was hounding her for disgracing the family with her grief.

"Can I ask what happened?" Atticus spoke up, making her jump a little at the sudden noise. "Only if you feel ready to talk. I don't want to upset you," he added kindly.

"It was a heart attack," she answered slowly after a short pause. "He hadn't been feeling himself a few days before so the doctor told him to stay home and get some rest. He did and he said he was feelin' better. They found him in his office that same day," she told him briefly, fighting to keep the images of her father lying dead on his office floor out of her mind. The images had haunted her since the day he died, keeping her up at night and adding to her guilt at not picking up that her father really hadn't been better.

"I'm so sorry," he said again, still watching her with concern. "How are you?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to say "if one more damned person asks me that", but she had the sense to hold herself back. He genuinely did care about how she was coping, unlike the other busybodies of the town.

She didn't know how to answer him. Would he want to her the truth that she wasn't doing ok? Would he want to hear of the nightmares she had of her father's coffin being lowered to the ground? Would he want to know of how she felt as though hundreds of dark clouds had gathered above her? Or should she just force her best smile and tell him that she was getting better with every day that passed? She reckoned he was a smart man; he'd know she was lying to his face.

"You probably want me to say that I'm fine, but I won't lie to you because I'm not." Jean eventually answered, her voice sounding a little more shaky than she would have liked. "I wasn't fine yesterday, I'm not fine today, and I probably won't be fine tomorrow. It's takin' me a little while to find my way back," she finished quietly, unsure if he even heard her or not.

"That's understandable. You've just had a massive disturbance in your life, no one can blame you for being far from fine," Atticus said gently, causing her to quickly look up at him. In the time since her father had died, not one person had said that they understood her grief.

She knew she was wrong, but she couldn't help but feel that no one else in the world was feeling the pain she was. She couldn't help but feel that no one else in the world had lost someone who meant as much to them as her daddy had meant to her. In spite of that, she couldn't help but feel just a little better at Atticus saying he understood.

"We all find our way back, Jean, and you're no different. It may not seem like it now, but you will be ok again," he then said, giving her a small smile.

She could only nod at him. "I...eh...I don't know when I'll be back...at...at the office," she whispered, her voice refusing to work for her.

Atticus looked as though he were appalled she would even mention it. "Let my office be the last thing on your mind. It's about time I learned to manage my files myself," he smiled at her again. "I don't want you worrying about that. Your job will be there whenever you feel that you're ready to come back." He told her before pulling himself up from the sofa. "If you need anything, anything at all, I'm just around the corner. Don't be afraid to come and ask."

She tried to smile at him, but found that she couldn't. His display of kindness nearly bringing on the tears she still hadn't cried since her father's death. She wished she could cry.

Atticus was then approaching her and placing his hand on her shoulder. "I mean it, Jean, anything you need. You aren't just my secretary, I consider you a good friend of mine. If there's anyway I can help you or your family, I want to know. Everything's going to be alright," he squeezed her shoulder and, still smiling at her, told her he would see himself out.

Still, she didn't cry


	4. Chapter 4

In the weeks that followed her father's death, Jean secluded herself completely in her room, refusing to see anyone or go anywhere. There just didn't seem to be any point. It was two months before she finally stepped outside the house and even then it wasn't by her own choice.

She didn't know what was happening to her. She knew she was grieving, but it seemed like her grief was eating her alive. She could barely muster the energy to talk to anyone, there didn't seem to be anything that could make her laugh, and she felt nothing but numb all the time. She got no joy out of her books as she once did, and even walking around town with Catherine wasn't even worth the effort of getting out of bed. She watched as her mother and sister slowly returned to their old selves, trying their best to go on with their lives, while she was left feeling like someone had sucked out her soul making it impossible for her to ever be happy again.

She wanted to move on, she really did. She was tired of feeling so sad all the time, tired of feeling like a bottomless black void had opened beneath her and was pulling her further and further in. She felt like her grief was taking too long and she should be coming back to her old self, but she just couldn't. Her father had been her world and it scared her to imagine a life without him. She had thought he would always be there. Now, there was so much he would never get to see.

Her room had become her refuge in the weeks following her father's death. She isolated herself off from her family, the only reason she ever left being meals and the bathroom. She could hear her mother and Catherine talking and sometimes even laughing, but all she could do was lie in her bed either sleeping or simply staring into space above her. There just didn't seem to be any point in moving. Her mother was furious at her, declaring that she was shaming the family by acting in such a disgraceful way and not even trying to move on. Louise didn't understand. She was trying to move on, but each time she tried it was as if a brick wall materialised and prevented her from moving forwards with her life. How long would she be left feeling like this?

When Catherine burst into her room one Saturday afternoon, she had wanted nothing more than to throw her pillow at her, but she didn't even have the energy to raise her arms. Her sister had been making frequent visits trying to get her to sit in the living room, or go for a walk, or just do anything that wasn't lying in her bed staring at the ceiling. As of yet, her efforts had been fruitless.

"Get dressed," she said the minute she stepped into her room, flinging open Jean's wardrobe doors and pulling out a dress. From the tone of her voice it was clear that she wouldn't be taking no for an answer.

"What for?" Jean mumbled, her face still buried in her pillow.

"We're going to Maudie's. It's either we come over or she'll be forced to spend an afternoon with Stephanie. I don't care what excuse you give me, you're going. No poor soul should have to suffer through an _entire_ afternoon spent with her," Catherine said firmly, throwing a dress across the bed and pulling Jean into a sitting position. "Do you even hear me?"

"Kitty, I'm too tired. Ask Mama to go with you," she replied, trying to sink back into the bed.

"I'm not askin' Mama because _you're_ coming with me! Now, put on that dress before I put you in it myself!" Catherine looked at her with such fierceness in her eyes that Jean knew she would do it. They stared each other down for a minute before Jean eventually caved, too tired to even attempt putting up a fight.

"Fine, but I'm only stayin' for half an hour."

"You'll stay as long as Maudie wants you to," Catherine shot back and watched her get changed into her dress.

Her grip on Jean's arm was firm as she took her down the stairs and out of the house, almost as if she expected her to bolt the second she loosened her hold. They met no one during the short walk from their house to Maudie's, something Jean was glad about. She couldn't handle anyone stopping her and asking her how she was coping. They would all expect her to smile and say she was just fine, and she didn't have the energy in her to lie. She didn't want to see or talk to anyone. They hadn't even arrived and she knew this visit with Maudie was going to completely drain her.

When they arrived at Maudie's house a few minutes later, it quickly became clear that Maudie had in fact not wanted both of them to visit, she only wanted to talk with Jean. Jean looked daggers at Catherine when Maudie took her through the front door and her sister went on her way. She was angry that she was now the topic of conversation between everyone. Didn't they have better things to do than to talk about her?

"I just baked a cake if you wanna come through and have a piece. I thought I was gonna be hosting lunch today, but old Mrs Dubose had the doctor over during the night, the poor thing. It would be a shame to see it go to waste," Maudie said sunnily as she closed the front door, guiding her through to the kitchen and sitting her down at the table.

"I don't really feel like eating, if you don't mind," Jean replied, wishing to God that Maudie would just say whatever it was she wanted so that she could leave.

She heard Maudie sigh quietly as she sat across from her at the table. She was looking at her with such an expression of pity that Jean wanted to storm out. If there was one she hated, it was pity from others.

Maudie fidgeted for a while, clearly thinking of how best to bring the subject up. "Honey, how are you?" She settled on asking after a few moments.

"I'm fine," Jean replied quickly, forcing a smile for good measure. Maybe if she was able to convince Maudie that there was nothing wrong she'd be able to leave.

"Now, you know that's not true. I haven't seen you leave your house in over a month," Maudie responded. "Jean, honey, I'm your friend, you can talk to me. Lord knows I've done enough in my own life not to judge you. I'm worried about you. We're all worried about you," she smiled in an attempt to get Jean to open up.

"My daddy died, Maudie, I'm hardly going to be skipping down the streets," Jean snapped, instantly regretting it. Maudie was such a kind soul, the type of person who was impossible to be cruel to. She knew she and everyone else were just worried about her, but she didn't want them to be worried. She wanted to be left alone.

"Jean, I understand. Believe me I do. When my husband died I felt like just becoming a hermit. All I wanted was to stay inside away from prying eyes and nosy neighbours, but you can't do that. You need to accept it and you need to move on. Look at you, you're not even twenty years old! Your life has barely started yet."

"How did you do it?" Jean then asked quietly, feeling like a small child. "How did you move on? Because any time I try I can never do it. It's like there's somethin' in my way trying to make sure I never do."

Maudie sighed again. "Oh, honey, it doesn't happen overnight. You'll have good days and bad days, but the only way you're going to get the good days is by believing that they're out there. You have to get out of the house and back into life and give yourself somethin' to look forward to. You've got to give yourself somethin' to live for. When that happens, someday you'll realise that you're not just as sad anymore," she explained, reaching across the table and taking Jean's hand.

They lapsed into silence again while Jean thought about what Maudie had said. She knew she needed to get back to her life and stop feeling sorry for herself, but that seemed like such a huge effort at the moment when she barely had the energy to get herself out of bed most days. She felt as though her grief was going to last forever. How would she be able to get herself through it?

"Honey, there's somethin' else I wanna say to you," Maudie spoke up quietly, pulling her from her own thoughts. "I know you haven't been to your daddy's grave, I saw you leave after the service. Honey, you need to go. You need to say a proper goodbye or you'll never feel like you've really moved on."

Jean was shaking her head. "I can't. Not yet." She managed to get out, hoping that Maudie would understand.

Maudie said nothing for a moment, but she eventually felt her squeeze her hand. "Alright, honey. That's not somethin' I'm gonna force you to do, but I'm just gonna tell you that I couldn't accept my husband was gone until I saw his grave. Trust me when I say it, Jean, you won't feel like yourself until you say a proper goodbye."

oOoOoOo

She didn't go to her father's grave. Not right away, anyway. For days she debated it, constantly asking herself what was stopping her from simply walking downtown, heading into the cemetery and finding her father's grave. She knew the reason, though: denial. Her mind just couldn't accept that her father was gone and it was destroying her with each passing day. Instead of feeling uplifted after talking with Maudie, she fell back into secluding herself in her room away from her family. She felt like she was getting worse instead of better.

About a week after her talk with Maudie, her mother was coming through her bedroom door with an unreadable expression on her face. Catherine had long ago given up her attempts to get her sister out of bed and talking, and returned to whatever her usual routine had been, leaving Jean with just her mother and her thoughts.

"Mr Finch is here to see you." Louise said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for Atticus Finch to come calling.

Slowly, Jean lifted her head from her pillow. "What? What does he want?"

"Well, the only way you're gonna find out is by gettin' yourself out of that bed and going downstairs! If that's not too much to ask of you," her mother snapped. She had been consoling towards her daughter in the wake of Samuel's death, understanding that the two had been exceptionally close and Jean was taking it extremely hard, but the more time passed, the more Louise was just downright annoyed by her daughter's inability to function like a normal human. She liked to constantly remind her that she wasn't the only person on earth to ever have lost someone.

Not having the energy to argue, Jean quietly complied and pulled herself from her bed. "Gimme that dress." She pointed to the spotty purple thing lying draped over a nearby chair. In her surprise at actually seeing her daughter do as she was asked, Louise didn't even think to berate her for her bad manners. "He's probably come over to fire me," Jean mumbled, pulling the dress over her head, smoothing down her hair and leaving the room.

Atticus was standing in the front hall when she descended the stairs, his hat held in his hands while he stood looking out across the neighbourhood from their front door. If he had come to fire her, he seemed remarkably at ease about doing so.

"Mr Finch?" Jean asked, making him jump a little.

He turned and greeted her with a warm smile, making her realise that he actually hadn't come calling to fire her. "Afternoon, Miss Graham."

She waited for him to say more but he returned to standing silently. "Is everything alright?" She asked after a moment, listening to her mother come down the stairs behind her.

"Yes, yes, everything's fine. I just called to ask if you would mind comin' with me somewhere?" He asked, giving nothing else away and making her feel a little uneasy. "If you don't need her for anything else, of course, Mrs Graham?" He then asked Louise.

"Take her as long as you want. This is the longest she's been out of bed in weeks." Louise replied. Jean could imagine her rolling her eyes as she spoke.

"Mama!" Jean turned disbelievingly to her mother. She'd kill her for embarrassing her in front of Atticus, she already felt like a child around him most of the time.

"It shouldn't take long, I promise," Atticus said. "Only if you're willing, of course," he added politely.

Jean looked back at her mother who stared her down firmly. Sighing, she shrugged. "Well, I reckon I've got nothin' better to be doing," she conceded, seeing that there wasn't really any way for her to get out of it.

"Wonderful. We'll be walkin', if you don't mind?" Atticus said, returning his hat to his head.

"Fresh air'll do her good." Louise spoke on her behalf, half pushing Jean out through the door.

They walked in silence down the main street of the neighbourhood, with Jean finding she was actually enjoying the feel of the mid-April sun basking down on her. She ignored Stephanie Crawford who stopped mid way through watering her flowers to watch them both walk by. Jean was sure that by the time they got back, it would be spread around the neighbourhood that Atticus Finch had taken her for a secret tryst.

"How are you?" Atticus asked suddenly as they made their way into the town centre. They had both been silent since setting out from her home, the sudden conversation startling her.

"Still far from fine, Mr Finch. Fine seems to be a long way off," Jean replied absently, focusing her attention on the activity of the town. Maybe if she kept her answer's vague he'd realise she didn't want to talk.

"Like I said before, you've suffered a huge loss, it's only natural for you to be feelin' the way you're feelin'," he replied kindly.

Jean couldn't help but to scoff. "Try telling that to my mama. She thinks I'm a disgrace."

"Some people take longer to grieve than others. You shouldn't feel ashamed that it's takin' you longer to work through it than your mother or your sister."

That caused her to turn her attention to him. So far, he was the only person who had justified her prolonged grieving, he was the only person who had assured her that what she was feeling was perfectly normal. Even her own mother wasn't as understanding. How was it that the man she worked for understood her better than her own mother?

They fell back into silence as they kept walking. Jean was tempted to ask where the hell they were going, realising that Atticus had remained very vague when asking her to accompany him. They couldn't be going to his office seeing as they passed it a few moments ago. Where else in the town could he possibly be taking her?

"I just need to pick somethin' up here. I won't be long," he spoke up again, leaving her standing in the heat while he disappeared inside a shop. When he reemerged, he was holding flowers in his hands.

Jean raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you bring me along to be your wing woman while you ask some girl to court you?" She asked, surprising herself at openly teasing him. She hadn't felt like even talking to anyone that day, and her relationship with Atticus was mostly professional, but she found she couldn't stop herself.

She saw his cheeks go faintly pink. "No," Atticus said simply and kept walking.

When they reached the town cemetery, Jean felt herself slow down, coming to a complete standstill outside the gates. "Mr Finch...Mr Finch, why are you bringing me here?" She asked, her voice starting to shake.

"Just trust me," He replied, gently taking her arm and leading her inside.

She felt her stomach start to turn as they made their way past numerous headstones, she felt like she should be twisting herself out of his grip and running from the damned place. She felt like she should be asking him who the hell he thought he was bringing her here. But strangely, she didn't fight. She allowed him to guide her along the path until they reached their destination: her father's grave.

Atticus cleared his throat when they stopped. "Maudie told me how worried she was about you and how she felt you hadn't gotten your closure. You'll have to forgive her, she meant well," he said, finally releasing her arm.

She couldn't speak, she could only stare at her father's name before her, not sure how she was feeling at seeing his resting place. There were so many emotions swelling up inside her that she wasn't sure which of them to be acting upon. So she stood motionless.

"Why...why did you feel like you had to personally see that I came here? I'm just your secretary. Why didn't you just tell Maudie to take me here herself?"

"A few reasons," he answered. "The first being that you're a friend and I always do what I can when a friend needs help," he paused for a moment, clearly thinking about what he was going to say next before going on. "The second being, because of my sister," he stopped again, making her wonder if that's all he was going to say. "When my mama died, my sister was just like you. She closed herself off from everyone and refused to even talk about Mama. She distanced herself and even now she's still distant from people. She hardened. I don't want you to end up like that. I want you to start getting past this so you can live your life. I know that's what your father would have wanted," he said, handing her the flowers he had bought and gesturing for her to put them on her father's grave.

She slowly took them from him and waited until he moved away to shakily place them against the headstone. "Hey, daddy," she whispered quietly and lowered herself down beside them. For a while, there was nothing, then everything came at once. The months of repressed emotions came pouring out and she let herself cry the first tears for her father. They came violently, causing her to shake and clutch at herself. She wasn't sure how long she cried for, whether it was minutes or hours, but when she finally dried her eyes and looked up, Atticus was still there.


	5. Chapter 5

He had helped her up from beside Samuel's grave when she finished crying, given her his handkerchief to dry her eyes, and as promised walked her back home. She had expected things to be painstakingly silent as they made their way through town, but she was surprised to find that Atticus talked a lot more freely with her than he had when they left her house. He even made several attempts to joke with her and Jean found herself actually laughing at him. In the few months that she had known him, she had never actually believed that he could be _funny_. She had always thought of him as boring and stiff and extremely distant, but she found he was actually very witty and had a dry sense of humour to match her own. It appeared that Atticus Finch was proving her wrong about many things each day.

"I hope I didn't ask too much of you bringing you there today," he had said as they continued their walk back home. "I'd hate to turn my best secretary against me."

"Your best secretary who hasn't been at work in months," Jean had said back, watching the small smile that had been on his face disappear.

"Miss Graham, you come back when you're ready," Atticus said more firmly. "I don't want you rushing back because you feel obligated. I'll be fine. The most important thing right now is for you to get back on your feet," he said kindly, giving her another little smile. She felt ok.

After their visit to the cemetery, things very slowly started to improve for Jean. Like Maudie had advised her, she took things one day at a time and could feel herself moving closer towards fine everyday. Each day she made sure to get up and make her bed, put on her favourite dresses and skirts, and smile at herself in the mirror while she got ready. She spent longer periods of time out of her room with her mother and sister, she slowly returned to visiting on Sunday afternoons, and afterwards fell back into her usual routine of walking around town with Catherine. She still had her bad days, days where she missed her father immeasurably and the pain in her chest would be too hard to ignore, but as the months passed those days got further and further between. For the first time since her father's death, she felt as though life was still worth living.

To her surprise, Atticus called round a few evenings in one week at the beginning of May. He put on no pretences and told her outright that the reason for his visits were to see how she was. Well, that and he'd lost the key to one of the filing cabinets and needed to know where she kept the spare. He'd asked how she was, and she'd replied that she felt better. Jean found that not only did Atticus believe her when she said it, but she also believed herself. She was better. She wasn't completely, totally fine, but she was better.

It was on one of those visits that Atticus tentatively asked if she was feeling up to returning to the office. As an automatic reaction she had immediately said no without giving it much real thought, believing herself to be far from up to it. Ever the gentleman, he said he understood perfectly and said he hoped he would have her back soon.

"Miss Graham, I..." Atticus had began as they moved towards the front door. He had then closed his mouth abruptly and looked away from her. "I remember now where I left the key," he settled on saying after a pause, leaving Jean wondering what he had actually wanted to say to her.

Once he had left she found herself thinking over what he had said before. The more she thought about it, the more she realised she was ready not just to return to the office, but to do what Maudie had said and actually start living her life the way her father would want her to. In his will, Samuel had left a handsome inheritance for each of his children, and Catherine had decided that she was going to use the money for college. After much thought, she had finally decided on attending college in Massachusetts and Jean had gladly agreed to stay with her, eager to see more of the world outside Alabama. She found she was excited. She had something to look forward to and she was excited to see what opportunities presented themselves up north. The weight of grief that had felt like it was pulling her down was finally relinquishing its hold on her. Finally, she was ok.

So, on a Monday morning nearly twelve weeks after her father had died, Jean was getting ready to return to Atticus' office. She was alright. She picked out her favourite dress to wear and she hummed happily to herself as she got dressed and made herself presentable. She was alright. She met Catherine on the landing and her sister looked genuinely happy to her returning to her old self.

"Well, aren't we just chirpy this morning. I only hope I'm as cheery as you are when I'm going to morning classes at college," she said as they descended the stairs.

"You won't be going to any of those morning classes unless you tell Mama about college. You can't just up and leave, you know," Jean replied. Catherine was taking her sweet time telling their mother about her plans considering she'd be leaving in a couple of months.

"I can try," she mumbled back as they entered the kitchen.

At seeing Jean enter the kitchen dressed and ready for the day, Louise raised an eyebrow as she sat breakfast on the table. "Going somewhere?"

Trying hard not to roll her eyes at her, Jean began making some coffee. "I'm going back to the office, actually. I reckon I've left Mr Finch without a secretary for long enough."

She heard Louise place whatever was in her hands down on the table and the next thing her mother was placing her arms around her. It took her by surprise a little seeing as Louise wasn't particularly a hugger, but she slowly put her arms back around her mother. Over her shoulder, she saw Catherine shrug.

"I'm so relieved, Jeannie. I was gettin' so worried about you. I thought you'd never come back to us," Louise said against her shoulder. Immediately, she felt guilty for the weeks of worry she had no doubt inflicted on her mother.

"I'm fine, Mama. I promise. I'm sorry," she replied.

Louise pulled back and took her face in her hands. "Honey, you don't need to apologise. I should have been more understanding that it would take you a little longer seeing how close you were to your daddy. I'm the one who's sorry." She kissed her daughter's forehead. "Now, sit and eat. I don't want you fainting on Mr Finch on your first day back."

As they fell into silence at the table, Jean caught her sister's eye and motioned for her to bring up college to their mother. The sooner Louise heard about it and took time to oppose it, the sooner she would come to terms that Catherine's mind was made up and she would be leaving in August. Catherine shook her head as subtly as she could, casting her eyes down to her plate before their mother caught on to anything. Unfortunately for her, Louise had eyes like a hawk.

"What are you two up to?" She asked sternly, watching the silent conversation between them.

"Nothin'," Catherine said quickly, looking at Jean and daring her to open her mouth.

"Kitty's going to college," Jean blurted out before she lost her nerve.

"What!"

"Jean!"

"Well, you weren't gonna say anything!" She shot back at her sister.

"You're going to college? Were you planning on ever telling me or just getting up and leavin'?" Louise asked, looking firmly at her oldest daughter.

Catherine gaped slightly, turning to look from Louise to Jean and back again. "I thought you'd fight me on it," she shrugged, looking at her mother as though she didn't fully recognise her.

Louise sat her coffee cup down and folded her hands. "Normally, I would. But you, my dear, are like your father. You're as stubborn as he would be when he made his mind up on somethin'. I've already lost my husband, I'm not going to fight with my daughter and lose her, too. Go to college and make your father proud, honey." she said, and Jean was certain there were tears in her eyes.

Quietly, Catherine rose from her chair and crossed to put her arms tightly around her mother. "I'm gonna make you proud, too, Mama. I'm gonna go to college and when I'm there I'll find a nice man to settle down with and give you so many grandbabies you won't be able to count 'em."

"You make your own life first, baby," Louise replied, something Jean thought she'd never hear her mother say as long as she lived.

"Mama." Jean then spoke, finding her voice to be a little shaky. "I'm going with her. I'm gonna live with her while she goes to college. Just so she's not on her own," she said, feeling more nervous by the minute as she waited for her mother's reaction.

Louise looked at Catherine clearly very confused. "Live with you? How far are you thinking of travelling that you need someone to live with you?" She asked, looking back at Jean who could feel her cheeks growing hot.

Jean saw her sister swallow. "Well, there aren't any colleges in Alabama that accept women right now, so I'm going to Massachusetts," Catherine half mumbled.

Louise half choked on the mouthful of coffee she had just taken. "Massachusetts?!" She coughed out, looking at Catherine in shock. Jean could feel the opposition coming on. "You're going to take yourself and your sister halfway up the country? What if somethin' happens? What if somethin' happens and you need me and I'm all the way down here. What will you both do then?"

As she spoke, Jean realised that it was fear that was driving her mother. She had lost her husband long before she should have, her son was back in Montgomery where she barely got to see and she no doubt worried about him, and now her daughters were planning on moving up the country away from her. She was afraid that something would happen and none of her children would come back to her, that they too would be taken from her the way her husband was. She was scared.

Thankfully, Catherine seemed to catch on to it, too. "Mama, we'll be fine. If anything happens we'll be back down on the train before you know it. I'll even buy a gun to take with me if that'll help you sleep at night," she teased, trying not to let her mother see her smirking.

Louise swatted her arm as Catherine returned to her seat, standing herself to pour what was left of her coffee down the sink. "What am I going to do with the pair of you?" She said, playfully pretending to pull their hair. Despite the fear that Jean knew was still in her, she leaned down to kiss the top of Sadie's head. "I'm proud of you baby. I'm so proud of you."

oOoOoOo

After breakfast was finished, Jean was glad to be getting out of the house and heading towards town, her good mood of that morning staying with her as she made her way to Atticus' office. She noticed how she felt lighter, like a leaden weight had suddenly been untied from her feet to allow her to move forward. The brick wall that had been stalling her from progressing forward was coming down brick by brick. She even found the time to stop and talk to Stephanie along the way, setting it in stone that she really was alright.

She now had something to look forward to. She was so excited about moving to Massachusetts with Catherine that it could barely come quick enough. She'd heard stories of how beautiful New England was in the autumn and she couldn't wait to see the changing colour of the leaves. She had a feeling that starting afresh somewhere new was the best possible thing for her right now. Maybe she'd even end up living there permanently.

When she arrived at Atticus' office, she wasn't the least bit surprised to see that he was already in and starting his day. He was usually the first person in town in the morning and the last to leave in the evening. She didn't think she knew anyone who was as committed to their work as he was. She couldn't help but then think that was the reason he was still single.

"Mornin', Mr Finch," Jean called out cheerily as she entered. To her surprise, the office was spotless. The numerous files and documents that usually piled up by the day on her desk were nowhere to be seen, leaving it looking rather bare and empty. Perhaps he'd get by without her better than she thought.

At the sound of her voice, Atticus popped his head around the corner of his office door and raised his eyebrows at her. "Miss Graham. You're back," he said, coming fully out to greet her.

"Don't sound too happy to see me," she replied playfully. "Or have you already found someone to replace me? Are you hiding her back in that office of yours?" She teased, knowing he had done no such thing.

"Indeed I haven't." He replied seriously, turning to head back into his office. "It'll be nice to have you back. I...I've probably been messing up your filing system." He said after a brief pause, changing his mind halfway about what he really wanted to say. She didn't think she'd ever understand him.

The day at the office passed as Jean always remembered it to. Atticus brought out multiple files that had already been building up from the end of the previous week, she watched him go back and forth between the office and the courthouse a few times, and before she knew it, it was after dinner time and they were heading into their final few hours before locking up.

A few clients came and went in the afternoon and Atticus stayed shut up in his office with them for most of it. When Jean had just settled herself with her afternoon cup of coffee, he finally came out and paced about in front of her for a while, causing her to grow a little concerned.

"Uh, is everything alright, sir?" She asked slowly.

"How are you?" He asked her suddenly, taking her completely off guard and bringing her back to their walk to the cemetery.

"I'm sorry?"

"I realised that this is your first day back and I never outright asked you how you were. It's awful rude of me." He explained, leaning back against a filing cabinet and watching her.

"I'm fine, really. It took me a while to get there, but I really am fine. You taking me to daddy's grave helped me more than I thought it would."

"Good, good," he nodded. "I worried about you," he said, his cheeks quickly going a little pink. Jean cleared her throat and started rifling through papers, not entirely sure what she was supposed to say to that. "Tell me about your father," he then asked.

Her eyes shot back up and she looked at him. She'd barely spoken about her father since he died. What if she wasn't able to talk about him without getting stupidly emotional? That would be embarrassing for both of them.

"Only if you're comfortable doing it," Atticus added quickly at seeing her hesitation.

"No, no, it's fine, really. What do you want to know about him?" She asked, not sure if he wanted a lowdown on his professional career or something else.

Atticus shrugged. "Whatever you want to tell me about him. What kind of a father was he, for instance?"

Jean couldn't help but smile. That question had an obvious answer. "He was the best kind of father. I know everyone feels like they have to say that about their daddy, but for him it was nothin' but the truth. Mama can be a little harsh sometimes, but he never was. He never raised his voice to us or whipped us, he was always kind and always there when we needed him. When I look back, he's always there," she told him, actually enjoying talking so freely about her father.

Atticus was ready with another question the moment she stopped talking. "What's your favourite memory of him? Which one stands out the most?" He asked, leaving her wondering why on earth he wanted to know these things.

"I don't even have to think about that." Jean replied, her smile growing bigger. "It was the summer after I turned six. My friend Marcy's parents had gone to New York and came back with this huge big dollhouse for Marcy to play with, and obviously I turned into the green eyed monster. I begged Daddy and Mama to get me a dollhouse like the one Marcy had, but nowhere in Montgomery made 'em that big. So, Daddy went out and started building me one. He's never been the most skilled person around tools, but he worked night and day to make me that dollhouse. He was so proud of himself the day he finally let me see it, and of course I just thought it was the best thing in the world because my daddy made it. Marcy's dollhouse had nothin' on mine," she finished, looking up to see that Atticus was smiling at her.

"It sounds as though he thought a great deal of you," he said, still smiling at her, still looking at her.

"I was the definition of a daddy's little girl. Wherever Daddy happened to be, you could be sure I wasn't too far away." Jean laughed. "But he thought a great deal of all us. When my brother was going off to college Mama insisted that he pay his own way through it. Barney had been out working but he wasn't making enough to put himself through college. Daddy paid for him to go and left enough in his will if he decides he still wants to stay on at school. To this day I still don't know if Mama knows."

"I wasn't aware you had a brother," he said.

"Yeah, I do. He's studying law at college. He'll probably take over Daddy's practice once he graduates. He'll be your competition, you better watch out." Jean teased him.

Atticus smiled at her again and turned his eyes away from her. "What about your sister? How is she?"

Jean raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Kitty is...well, she's Kitty. She bounced back pretty quick, quicker than I did. She's planning on going to college in Massachusetts in September. Mama actually surprised us both by not putting up much of a fight. I think Kitty thought she'd hit her head during the night."

"Massachusetts?" He repeated. "That's quite the distance for her to travel on her own."

Jean's smile faded as she wondered how to go about bringing it up that she was going with her. She knew he couldn't stop her leaving, but she wondered if he would get angry at her. Would he have preferred more notice? Hardly, seeing as she wasn't leaving for another few months. He had plenty of time to find a replacement.

"That's somethin' I should probably talk to you about, actually. I'm going to go with her and live with her there while she goes to college. I'll be twenty in a few weeks, so I think it's high time I spread my wings a little," she told him quietly, looking up for his reaction.

Something flashed across his face, but as quick as it did it was gone again and he was still himself. "Really? Well, that should be quite the adventure for you both. I've never been to New England, but from what my brother tells me it's very beautiful in the autumn," he smiled at her again, but his eyes looked different somehow.

"Will you be able to find a new secretary?" She asked stupidly after a spell of silence, not sure what else to say.

"Probably," he answered. "Though probably not one as charming as you," he added slowly, as though unsure if he actually should have.

She bit her lip to stop herself from smiling and listened to him shuffle awkwardly about, opening the filing cabinet and pulling some files out just for something to do.

"Mr Finch?" She said as he made his way past her back into his office. He stopped abruptly and regarded her. "That was the first time I've talked about daddy since he died. I mean really talked about him. Thank you for bringing it up, I didn't realise how much I'd missed talkin' about him," she smiled up at him.

"I had a feelin' you hadn't, that's why I thought to bring it up," Atticus admitted. "We shouldn't be afraid to talk about the dead, it's the best way to keep their memory alive. I told you I'd help you, Jean, and I'm glad I could," He bowed his head a little at her and continued on to his office.

In the wake of their conversation, she found herself hoping that there were men like Atticus Finch in Massachusetts.


	6. Chapter 6

Summer arrived blisteringly hot in Maycomb that year, hotter than any Alabama summer that Jean could remember. That summer would also be the first she would spend without her father and the first of many birthdays he wouldn't get to see. Her father would have been fifty-eight that July and she thought it cruel that he wasn't being given the chance to celebrate the day.

Her own birthday in May had passed without much fanfare. There had been a special tea with the ladies of the neighbourhood, all of them giving her their own very touching gifts, and then a more private celebration with her mother and sister. Louise had presented her with a beautiful pearl necklace, saying that she was now twenty so it was fitting she have it. It had belonged to her grandmother and her grandmother before her. According to Louise, it had been in the family for close to sixty years being passed down mother to daughter. Catherine had no real interest in jewellery, telling Louise that pearls "weren't her style", so it had been kept to give to Jean. Louise said how how she hoped Jean would continue the tradition and pass it on to her own daughter on her twentieth birthday.

With leaving her teenage years behind, Jean had thought that her mother would back down and stop chastising her for her apparent "lack of direction" in life. She should have known that no such thing would happen. Catherine was twenty-two and Louise still tried to butt in on her life as much as she could. It seemed like after she turned twenty, her mother was more on her case than usual.

"Jean, child, I worry about you," she said one evening after Jean had come for the day, shaking her head as she spoke.

A little confused, Jean had stopped drying the dishes in her hands. What was her mother worried about now? It had been five months since Samuel had died and she was doing fine. With help from her family, Maudie and Atticus, she had gotten herself to a good place and accepted his death. She still felt sad sometimes, of course, but nowhere near the level she had a few months previous. She really was fine.

"Why are you worried now, Mama? I'm fine," Jean replied, smiling at her mother for good measure.

"It's got nothin' to do with you not being fine," Louise replied, wringing her hands on a dish towel. "It's got to do with the fact that you're twenty years old now and still not showing any interest in courting anyone. When I was your age I was married and expecting Barney. What I'm worried about is you not settling down with a family," she said, a frown on her face. In the midst of everything Jean had forgotten just how traditional her mother was. To her, a woman not getting married and having children was something to be ashamed of. She knew her mother wouldn't be off her case until she was walking down the aisle in a white dress.

"Mama, I don't know if you've noticed, but all the men in Maycomb are either married or too old. I think Sheriff Tate is one of the youngest and he's nearly in his thirties," Jean replied with a laugh.

Louise opened her mouth to argue but then changed her mind and only gazed thoughtfully at her daughter. "I suppose I can't fight you on that. Maybe going to Massachusetts will be the best thing you ever did."

"What do you mean?"

"There's bound to be some young things there. Granted, I'm not too pleased you and Catherine will be mixing around with those yankees, but I expect you to come home at Christmas with news that you're courting someone, do you hear?" Her mother said, and it scared Jean to see that she wasn't joking. She really did expect her to spend all her time up north looking for a potential husband.

"Mama, would it really be so bad if I didn't get married? I mean, really? I'm gettin' by alright on my own now," she asked and immediately wished she hadn't.

Louise practically threw her tea towel on the worktop. "Jean, you say that to me once more and I'll throw you out of this house! No daughter of mine is going to die single! If I have to arrange a marriage for you I will!"

Jean could only stare dumbly back. "Alright, Mama, breathe. I promise I'll make an effort up north," she said. "I promise!" She said again at seeing her mother's unbelieving look. Lord, she was going to have her a time.

oOoOoOo

Since their conversation months ago about Jean's father, she found that Atticus was now more prone to coming out of his office and talking to her more than he usually had before. Sometimes he would stay on the topic of her father, asking her more questions about him and the time they had lived in Montgomery; sometimes he would talk about his own family, mostly about his brother Jack to the point where Jean now felt as though she knew the man personally.

As he opened up more towards her as the months progressed on, she often thought that she would miss the time they spent talking once she left for Massachusetts. Even though she was a great deal younger than he was, he never spoke down to her. He always spoke to and treated her like an adult and an equal, something her own mother refused to do at times. She liked how easy the conversation was with him. It never seemed forced, but felt almost as natural as breathing. He always listened, never judged, and was always on hand to help. Never in her wildest dreams would she ever have thought Atticus Finch would be her closest friend.

When the days in July continued to roll in, Jean once again found herself thinking of her father and how this would be the first birthday he wouldn't be there to see. Despite the fact that he wasn't physically there this year, she still felt like she needed to do something to mark his birthday. She didn't want to feel like she was forgetting him, but she couldn't think of what on earth she could possibly do. How exactly did you honour the birthday's of the dead?

When she brought it up to Atticus he appeared to lose himself in thought. He didn't give her an answer, but only said "I'm sure you'll think of somethin'" and returned to his office. She wondered what was bothering him that day.

On her father's birthday, she still hadn't decided on how to mark the day and felt terrible. It made her feel like she was losing her connection with him. They had always been so close and now she couldn't even think of a way to show him that his memory wasn't dead to her, that it never would be. She had been prepared to skulk back home at the end of the day, still immensely annoyed at herself for failing to mark his day, but Atticus had stopped her before she could make it out the door.

"I was wondering if you would come with me somewhere?" He asked, the same sentence he had said on the day he had taken her to the cemetery.

"If you're thinkin' of taking me to the cemetery again, I'll have to decline. I go to Daddy's grave twice a week now, I promise," she replied.

Atticus gave her a small smile. "I wasn't thinkin' of the cemetery. It's somewhere else I was going. Why don't you call your mother and tell her you'll be late back. It'll be a bit of a drive, I'm afraid."

Now she felt a little nervous, but she didn't know why. She trusted Atticus completely and knew he would make sure she didn't come to any harm, but driving out of town with him so late in the evening made her put her guard up.

"How long will it take?" She asked slowly, her eyes never leaving him.

"A few hours at the most. We'll be back before your bedtime if that's what you're worried about," he said, and she could see him fighting to keep a straight face. In the months that had passed, he'd also began to joke with her more. Something she didn't know if she enjoyed. Usually, it was her doing the teasing.

"Very funny," Jean said dryly. "I'll call Mama and tell her. Where will I tell her we're going?" She asked.

"Just tell her you're with me. That should be enough." He replied, beginning to put on his jacket and hat while she went to the phone.

Louise, of course, had asked a multitude of questions, none of which Jean could give her an answer to. The only thing she could repeat over and over was that she was with Mr Finch so she'd be ok. Eventually, Louise gave up and merely told her to be careful, allowing her to finally hang up the phone and return to Atticus.

"She asked a lot of questions and I couldn't give her answers. You'll have a lot of explaining to do when we get back," Jean pointed out, allowing him to escort her out of the office and to his car.

When they set off, it was in a direction she had never been in since she moved to Maycomb. She didn't recognise any of the scenery as they continued on, and didn't even bother asking Atticus where they were going. She felt she wouldn't get a straight answer out of him if she did. While they drove, he talked to her about a multitude of things, mostly about the trouble he was having trying to find another secretary, something that made her feel guilty about leaving. Despite how much he talked about the trouble he was having, and the little glances he kept throwing in her direction, her mind was firmly made up: she was going to Massachusetts.

"I'm sure you'll find someone. I'd bet you twenty dollars you'll have some new thing in not a week after I leave," Jean had said as he refused to steer off the topic.

Atticus nodded slowly and kept his eyes on the road. "I've no doubt I probably will. Though I already said I'll be hard pressed to find one as charming as you."

Jean had rolled her eyes but smiled at him nonetheless. "Mr Finch, you can throw me compliments every minute of the day but they aren't gonna persuade me to stay."

"That wasn't my intention. I was merely stating a fact," he replied, his expression remaining neutral. He was always so unreadable it was difficult to tell if he was teasing or being serious with her.

About an hour and a half after they had set out Atticus began to slow the car down. He eventually slowed to a stop on a deserted stretch of road next to a heavily wooded area. Jean couldn't help herself from slowly turning to look at him.

"You don't need to look so scared. I know where I'm going," he said with a smile.

"If you say so," she replied quietly under her breath.

As they both got out, Atticus stopped to open one of the back doors and pull out a small sapling and a shovel. She couldn't help but wonder how on earth she had missed those in the back of the car. He gave her no explanation and continued on towards the woods, only stopping when she cleared her throat. She stood where she was by the car with raised eyebrows and folded arms waiting for him to give her some sort of explanation.

"Just come with me, please," he said to her, nodding briefly towards the woods.

After staring at him incredulously for a moment, she obeyed, realising that Atticus would explain everything when he was good and ready. For ten minutes they walked in silence, Atticus still refusing to say where they were going or what they were doing, and Jean finding she was too confused to even ask again. Why was he bringing her to plant a tree by the looks of things? Just when she thought she was starting to understand him.

"Here we are," Atticus said eventually, stopping in a small clearing surrounded by trees, the sound of multiple birds above them almost making her feel calm. "I'm guessing there's nowhere quite like this in Montgomery," he turned to her with a big smile.

"Mr Finch, what are we doin' here?" Jean finally asked, not being able to come to a conclusion as to why he wanted her to go with him to plant a tree. Surely that was more Maudie's domain?

For a moment, Atticus was silent as he placed the sapling and the shovel on the ground. "I've already told you how my sister had a hard time when my mama died. She couldn't seem to get over it. I remember my daddy taking her to plant a tree near our home. She named it Ellen after Mama, and Daddy told her it would be as though Mama's soul was in the tree. I don't know if you believe in that sort of thing, but I thought maybe you'd like to do the same for your father," he finished quietly, sounding a little embarrassed now that he'd said it.

Jean was touched. She hadn't thought he'd thought so much of her to help her with something so personal. "I think that's a beautiful way to remember Daddy. Thank you for thinkin' of it," she said gently, watching in amusement as his cheeks went slightly pink. Without saying anything else she picked up the shovel from the ground and set off for a spot right in the middle of the clearing.

"Would you prefer me to do that?" Atticus asked quickly, attempting to take the shovel from her hands.

"No, I can do it," she replied a little firmer than intended. "You just hold that tree and look pretty," she teased him, smirking as he went pinker still.

She got to work digging in the middle of the clearing, watching Atticus watch her out of the corner of her eye and having to hold in her laughter when he would quickly turn away when she turned her head. When she had dug a big enough hole, she took the tree from his hands and placed it gently in the ground, filling it all back in and whispering a quiet "happy birthday, Daddy" when she was finished. Feeling her father all around her she quickly became very overwhelmed, deciding to sit under a nearby oak and completely forgetting about Atticus until he came and sat next to her. He was so close to her that she could practically feel his body heat.

"It's a birch," he said after a few moments, causing her to turn to him. "The tree is a birch. Maudie told me. She knows more about horticulture than I do," he smiled at her.

"Samuel the birch tree," Jean laughed, feeling a little lighter. "It's got a nice ring to it."

"I think your father would be very proud of you," Atticus then said. "You've handled yourself very graciously these past few months, and I think he'd be immensely proud of you deciding to move up north. You managed to find a positive in the middle of a terrible tragedy."

"It's Catherine that's going to college, not me," she reminded him. It wasn't as though she was undertaking some huge life event, she was only moving to keep her sister company.

"Regardless, I think he'd be proud of you for being so independent. You and Catherine both."

"I hope so," Jean replied quietly. "I wanted nothin' more than to make him proud," she added, staring straight ahead at the tree and deciding that this little clearing would be her sanctuary. When the world got too dark or she missed her father immeasurably, this was where she would retreat: to the place where Samuel's spirit could be felt all around her.

"I don't think that's somethin' you have to worry about," Atticus replied kindly.

As they lapsed into silence, she noticed for the first time just how comfortable she felt with him by her side, how safe she felt with him right by her. She had never imagined herself being so close to him, physically or emotionally, but she was glad she was. She wondered if he knew just how close he was to her, how she could feel the steady moving of his body as he breathed, or if he could hear the frantic beating of her heart.

"When do you leave?" He asked suddenly, startling her a little.

"Sometime next month. Catherine isn't sure of what date just yet," she replied in such a small voice she was surprised he heard her.

Atticus nodded and turned back to stare at the tree she had just planted. "So long as you don't leave without sayin' goodbye."

"I wouldn't dream of it. You'd probably cry yourself to sleep every night until I came back at Christmas," she teased, smirking at him only to find he was sitting with a serious expression.

He seemed to fidget a little where he sat, making her wonder what was making him appear so nervous. "I'll miss you," he eventually said, still refusing to turn and look at her.

Jean felt her heart jolt a little. "You mean you'll miss having someone to do all the boring jobs for you?" She teased him again, unsure if he was being serious or not.

"No, I mean I'll miss you. A great deal I may add," Atticus replied, moving his hand to cover hers which sat on the ground.

She blushed furiously as he finally turned to look at her, his expression telling her that he meant every word he said. All at once she felt herself fall for him. "I reckon I'll miss you, too," she said, smiling sadly when she felt him tighten his grip on her hand.

"You wouldn't be saying that just to soothe an old bachelor's ego, I hope?" He made a weak attempt at teasing her back.

"You're not old," Jean replied, causing him to laugh. "And no, I'm not," She added quickly in barely a whisper.

Atticus gave her hand another squeeze."You know," he spoke up again, his thumb caressing her knuckles, "I don't think Massachusetts knows just how lucky it is."

Suddenly, Massachusetts seemed like it was very far away.


	7. Chapter 7

She didn't know how much time had passed while they had sat under the old oak tree, but when Atticus helped her to her feet and suggested they return home the sky was starting to turn orange. The evening air was warm, his shoulder was so comfortable and her hand was so snug in his that she could easily have sat all night with him in the little clearing. Regardless, she accepted his offered arm and let him direct her back through the trees to his car, gripping his arm a little tighter than intended as they walked. She knew now that he cared for her, a lot more than she had initially believed, and she could only hope he had picked up that she felt the same. When she had first fallen for him she wasn't quite sure, maybe it had been after their little trip to the cemetery or during the little conversations that started after, but that evening only served as a confirmation of everything she guessed she had already known; she was falling in love with Atticus Finch.

As they made their way back into Maycomb, Atticus had reached out and tentatively taken her hand in his as he drove, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. Slowly, she had moved herself closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder, wanting to cry when he pulled his hand from hers to cautiously wrap his arm around her and gently give her shoulders a squeeze. His touch felt so soft and so natural that she couldn't help but to turn her face into the warm comfort of his chest, inwardly cursing the universe for its timing. Why did all this have to happen when she was moving up the country for God knows how long? Why couldn't it all have happened before she had agreed to move with Catherine so that they could give things a go? Why was it that things never seemed to work out for her? Seemingly reading her thoughts, she felt Atticus pull her closer to him and softly rub her upper arm. Maybe his thoughts were travelling along the same path as hers.

When they arrived back in Maycomb, the sky was turning inky black so Atticus insisted on walking her the short distance home. She felt his fingers brush against hers for mere seconds as they walked before he was taking her hand completely in his. She loved the sensation. She loved the warmth, the security, the feeling of being so connected to him, and she never wanted to let him go. Never would she have pictured herself falling for Atticus Finch. He was so serious, so much older, so different from the type of man she had pictured herself being with, but yet it felt so natural and right just being around him. He made her feel calm and at peace.

In silence he had walked her right to her front door, his hand still clutching hers as they both stood awkwardly on the porch, neither sure of what to say or what to do.

"Are you alright?" Atticus was the first to break their silence. She guessed he had grown a little worried when she hadn't said a word from his house to hers, she was too focused on trying to forge it into her memory how his hand felt in hers.

"Mhmm. I'm just tired is all. You broke your promise of not keeping me out past my bedtime," Jean teased him, trying to stifle a yawn.

He immediately looked guilty. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend to keep you out so late. I should have kept a closer track of time."

"Oh, hush, you I'm only teasing," Jean laughed at him. "I'm glad you did take me there today. You didn't have to and I really do appreciate it. It made me feel really close to Daddy. I could practically feel him there with us."

Atticus smiled at her and turned his hat in his hands. "Well, I'm glad I could help." He went silent after that, clearing his throat and turning to look down the street over the porch railing, looking as though he was putting a great deal of thought into what he was going to say next. "I...I enjoyed spending time with you today. You have a way of making everything seem...light," he said after some thought.

Jean felt her cheeks grow hot but she couldn't stop herself from smiling back at him. "There you go again with the compliments trying to get me to stay," she said playfully. "Nothing's changed, I'm still going up north," she told him, wondering if he could then detect the hint of regret in her voice. Massachusetts no longer had any appeal to her, the excitement she had initially felt had died completely, but she had made a promise to Catherine and family came first. Would she be able to forget about Atticus once she moved? He didn't seem like the type of person that was easily forgotten.

"I'd like to believe you wouldn't drastically change your plans for the future just because some man gave you a compliment," he said, fighting to keep a straight face. "I reckon I should let you get inside before your mama comes after me." He then said, hesitating for only a moment before slowly leaning in and kissing her cheek.

If she hadn't wanted to go to Massachusetts before, she definitely didn't want to go now. As he straightened up it took all her strength not to grab his face and pull him back into her. Having him so close to her had made her breath hitch and her heart begin to race rapidly. Did he know that was the effect he had on her now? She couldn't stop herself from laughing at how much had changed in a few months. She had gone from thinking Atticus was nothing but an old fuddy duddy to having to control her breathing when he was close to her. It all seemed so absurd.

"What's so funny?" Atticus asked, a little smile playing on his own face.

"Nothin'," Jean replied, still smiling as she shook her head.

"You obviously found something funny."

"Perhaps I did. Maybe I'll tell you someday," she teased him, watching him shake his head amusedly at her.

Wishing him goodnight she eased herself in through her front door and turned out the porch lights. She watched Atticus walk down the street to his own house, watched him turn out his own porch lights, and watched some more. If she could barely handle this distance then how on earth would she get by in Massachusetts?

After that, things began to subtly change in the office. Gradually, Jean spent less time at her desk and more time sitting across from Atticus in his office. She would go through to collect some files or bring through something a client had left off, and three hours later she would still be there. Eventually, she only ever left if had to meet with a client, and would return the minute they left. They talked together so much and she felt so comfortable with him that she almost felt as though they had been together for months. She wasn't exactly sure how they would define their relationship, but she felt as though they had to be at least beginning a courtship. But then, the looming reality of her move up north would cast its shadow and make her realise that a courtship with him would be made near impossible.

Catherine had decided to move up north in the middle of August which was only three weeks away. When Jean had told Atticus, he seemed to close in upon himself and return to the aloof, reserved person she had met when she started working with him. She tried to get him to open up, sitting across from him as usual and talking about anything but Massachusetts, but he still remained quiet. She couldn't make herself believe that he was that upset over her leaving or that she could possibly mean that much to him.

However, in the weeks leading up to her impending departure, Atticus displayed just how much he really did think of her, and she was left with no doubt as to how much he really would miss her once she left. It started when he called her through to his office around a week after she told him when she'd be leaving.

"Somethin' wrong?" Jean asked, peeking her head around the door.

He didn't even look up."Nope," Atticus replied, not moving an inch from behind his desk. "Why don't you sit down?"

"Uh oh. This doesn't sound like it's gonna be good," Jean sat across from him in her usual spot. As always, Atticus remained unreadable in front of her.

"It's nothin' bad, I just wanted to give you this." He handed her a scrap of paper. "It's my brother's address in Boston. If you need anything while you're up there, anything at all, don't hesitate to go to him. I've let him know you and Catherine will be in the area, so you won't take him by surprise," he added at seeing the puzzled expression on her face.

"Atticus, I'm sure your brother has more important things to do than look after me and Kitty," she laughed at him, though still touched by the gesture.

"You'd think so, but no. If anything, he'll be glad to be seen out and about with two pretty ladies," he told her, smirking as she turned a faint shade of pink.

"Well, I appreciate it." Jean said eventually, reaching across the table and giving his fingers a squeeze. Maybe meeting Jack would almost be like having Atticus there with her. She was going to miss him.

As her remaining weeks in Maycomb continued to fly in, Atticus became quieter still with each day that passed. It had gotten to the point where Jean had returned to her own desk for most of the day rather than stay with him. Maybe he had grown tired of her already? He said nothing more about her leaving or about Jack or about Massachusetts in general, and she in tun stayed quiet on the subject. She had let her guard down and let herself fall for him and already he was beginning to shut her out.

Or so she thought.

The day before she was due to leave with Catherine, he called her through to his office before she even had time to settle herself. He was turning something over in his fingers when she appeared and leaned against the doorway, completely oblivious to her presence.

"You called?" Jean asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I did," he replied, still not looking up from whatever he was holding in his hand. He sat a little longer turning over whatever he was holding before sighing a little and finally pulling himself from his chair. "I wanted to give you this before you left." He handed her a small silver shamrock. "My mama gave it to me when I first went to Montgomery. She said it brought her all the luck in the world so I want you to have it. I thought you could put it on a necklace or a bracelet."

Immediately, Jean was protesting. "Atticus, I can't take this, it was your mother's," she said, but he was having none of it.

"I want you to have it. Think of it as somethin' to remember me by when you're settled up north," he tried to make it sound like a joke but he couldn't quite manage it.

She turned the little charm over in her fingers, looking at how delicate and beautiful it was, and wanted to cry right in front of him. He wasn't making this any easier for her. "Thank you," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

Slowly, almost awkwardly, he pulled her against him. "You take care of yourself up there. Promise me you'll look after yourself."

"I promise," she practically whispered back. She'd never realised just how much a person could feel like home.

Jean practically had to force herself out the office door at five that day, wanting to spend all the time she could with Atticus. He had kindly insisted on walking her home that evening, discretely as possible taking her hand in his as they walked. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to turn to him now and say to hell with Massachusetts, she would stay here and they could really give things a try. She wanted to tell him to close up his practice in Maycomb and move up north with her so they could be together. She wanted to say something, anything that could stop the inevitable from happening.

Ultimately, she said nothing. She knew she was being foolish and irrational to even consider saying those things. He had his professional and personal ties in Maycomb, and she had made a promise to her sister. Catherine would never forgive her if she chose a man over her sister. She let Atticus climb the porch steps with her and as they stood, she found herself stupidly wondering why he hadn't kissed her yet, properly kissed her. That would have been a sure way to make sure she didn't forget about him up north. Was it possible to be too much of a gentleman?

Moments passed and she felt him tighten his grip on her hand as he thought. He seemed to be at a complete loss as to what to say or do.

"It's going to be awful quiet in the office without you there," he settled on saying eventually.

"Once you get some new girl in, you'll barely even remember my name," Jean replied, forcing herself to smile when all she felt like doing was crying into his chest. How had she let herself fall so far?

Atticus shook his head a little at her. "I think I'll do without. It wouldn't feel right having a secretary that wasn't you," he said, giving her hand another squeeze as he spoke.

Jean smirked at him. "Mhmm. I wonder how long you'll be able to keep that up," she teased him, knowing full well he meant every word he said.

"I mean it. I don't think I'd be able to replace you," he replied, almost as if he had read her thoughts. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," she replied quietly, the urge to cry becoming stronger with each second that passed.

He pulled her in to him once more and she let herself bury her face into his chest. She felt him tighten his arms around her and rest his cheek on the top of her head. For an eternity they stood locked together on the porch, neither wanting to be the first to let the other go. Eventually, she let him go, letting him kiss her cheek, wish her good luck up north, and watched him descend the porch steps. As she watched him walk away, she could only let herself wonder just how much would have changed when she returned at Christmas.


	8. Chapter 8

Jean had been in Massachusetts for just over three weeks before she met Jack Finch. She didn't seek him out as Atticus had suggested, instead their paths crossed purely by accident, and it all came about because she hated Massachusetts.

Actually, hate wasn't a strong enough word. She despised the place and everything in it. She hated how it wasn't as warm as Alabama, she hated how the people spoke and how everyone she conversed with pointed out her "funny accent", and she hated being so far away from Atticus. Despite only being a train journey away from him, she felt as though she was on the opposite side of the world.

The urge to call him was nearly overwhelming, but she wouldn't allow herself to. She didn't know how things were between them now that she had left, maybe Atticus had forgotten about her, but she felt miserable without him. What was worse was having to keep all these thoughts and feelings to herself. She knew she'd never hear the end of it from Catherine if she divulged the real reason she was missing Alabama. Living in Massachusetts was bad enough without Catherine knowing she had fallen in love with Atticus Finch.

The day they had left Maycomb Atticus had been on his front porch watching them go. With one hand playing with the silver shamrock around her neck, she raised the other to wave sadly at him, wondering if he knew just how much she didn't want to leave.

"I hope they all aren't as boring as him up north," Catherine spoke up, nodding towards Atticus. "I'd rather watch paint dry than try to have an interesting conversation with him. It's no surprise he isn't married, he'd have a wife bored to tears."

"Don't talk about him like that," Jean replied sharply, now very protective over him.

"Aww, are you in love with him, Jeannie? Did all the "file this, please, Miss Graham," and "run over to the courthouse for me, Miss Graham" make you fall head over heels for him?" Catherine teased her. "The day you tell me you're in love with Atticus Finch is the day I take you to see Doctor Reynolds. There'd have to be somethin' really wrong with you to fall for a man as boring as him!" She cackled.

"Kitty, stop it!" Jean raised her voice to her sister, something she rarely did. "You know absolutely nothin' about him, so keep your opinions to yourself! He's a perfectly nice man!" She could feel herself getting very quickly riled up. If she kept on like that it wouldn't take Catherine long to realise she had been right.

She saw Catherine look at her as though she had gone mad. "What in the world has gotten into you? I'm only kidding around. Lord, you said yourself he was the most boring man you ever met," she reminded her, causing Jean to inwardly wince. She'd never forgive herself for how she used to make fun of him.

"Well, I've changed my mind. He's very...nice," she ended, not being able to think of a better word to describe Atticus.

"I still say you've gone and fallen in love with him. I bet Mama would just _love_ that," Catherine continued to tease her, completely oblivious to how right she was.

"Shut up," Jean replied grumpily, turning to look out the window to hide her flaming cheeks.

She hadn't told her mother nor Catherine about how she felt towards Atticus. She could only imagine their reaction seeing as he was nearly fifteen years older than she was. Louise would think her daughter had taken leave of her senses, while Catherine would find new and creative ways to torment both of them. Not telling her family also made things seem less official, and she hoped by not feeling as though they were really together that it would be easier to forget about him when they arrived. Although part of her knew it wouldn't be that simple.

The entire train journey to Massachusetts she thought of no one but Atticus, something that made her feel very foolish. She had been so excited to move up north and start afresh, yet here she was pining over a man who would no doubt have forgotten her in a week. While Catherine chattered on to her about God knows what, all she could think about was the feel of Atticus' hand, the comfort of his shoulder, and the sensation of his lips on her cheek. She was falling so quickly in love with him it was making her cringe. Though she still wondered if he was thinking about her, too.

It seemed she hated Massachusetts from the moment she stepped foot on the platform. Jean didn't know if it was the new people or the change of scenery, but it was so unlike Alabama she knew she would never settle. The sheer feeling of being so overwhelmed along with Catherine being the only recognisable face made her want to jump on the next train home. Everything was so new and so different and she hated it. From the moment they stepped onto the platform she was pulling at the silver shamrock around her neck, longing to feel some sense of what she had left behind.

When three weeks passed and Jean still hadn't settled in to any sort of routine, Catherine suggested that they take a trip into Boston to see if that helped her any. In truth, Jean didn't know why she was bothering. While Catherine had taken immediately to life up north, enjoying her new classes and making new friends, Jean still felt like a fish out of water and didn't see how walking around Boston would make her feel any better. If anything, it would only make her feel _more_ uneasy. Regardless, she went along with Catherine, knowing she would drag her to Boston if she had to.

For a while, all they did was walk around the city, stopping in a few shops where Catherine pointed out various things she would like for home, all in an effort to try and make Jean feel a little more settled. When it wasn't working, and Catherine was starting to get a little agitated, she then suggested they stop in a small cafe before heading back home. Once they were settled with their coffee and their pastry, Catherine began looking at something just over Jean's shoulder, smirking and looking back and forth between her sister and whatever was holding her attention.

"What are you doing?" Jean asked, looking at her sister as though she had gone mad.

"There's a gentleman over there showing quite a bit of interest in you," she explained, nodding subtly in his direction. "He's been glancing over at you ever since we sat down." She smirked and drained the last of the coffee from her cup. "Oh, look! My coffee is all finished! I'm just gonna go get another!" Catherine winked at her as she got up to head to the counter

"Kitty, don't!" Jean tried to protest, reaching out to try and grab her sister's arm to no avail.

Once Catherine had left, Jean felt particularly exposed, almost as though some form of protective armour had been stripped away from her. She kept her gaze firmly on her coffee cup, silently praying that whoever the man was he sat his ground and left her alone.

She had no such luck.

"Afternoon, miss," a man not much older than she greeted, taking the seat that her sister had just vacated.

"Afternoon," Jean tried to stay brisk, hoping it would make him leave her alone.

He was silent for a minute, smirking at her as he waited for her to say more and ploughing on himself when she stayed silent. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. He was one of those men.

"You got a name, doll?"

She scowled at him. "Jean."

"Pretty name for a pretty gal." He winked at her. "Where're you from, Miss Jean?" He then asked, reaching into his vest pocket and pulling out a cigarette.

"Alabama," she replied, still keeping her answers short and blunt. She watched his hand freeze part way towards lighting his cigarette.

"Where in Alabama?" He asked, looking at her a little more intently.

"Maycomb," she answered after a brief pause. She had nearly said Montgomery but then realised he was a total stranger and didn't really deserve her entire life story.

"You got a surname, Miss Jean?" He asked, almost as if he already knew the answer.

"Graham," she told him slowly. She looked at him with a new wariness and became a little startled when he sat back fully in his chair and grinned at her, his cigarette long forgotten.

"Well, is it any wonder my brother is so head over heels with you," the man said, making her more confused than ever.

"I'm sorry?" Jean asked for clarification. She had never met this man in her life. How on earth would she know who his brother was, never mind have the man head over heels with her.

"Jack Finch," he finally introduced himself, offering his hand across the table.

Jean relaxed completely and smiled at him. "So, you're the famous Jack Finch. Atticus has told me so much about you," she shook Jack's hand and recognised Atticus' eyes in his brother's face.

"I dare say he has. He's always been rather jealous of me," Jack joked with her, leaning back against his chair. "He should sleep a little easier at night now when I tell him I finally found you. Very concerned about you he is."

Jean couldn't help but to cock an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure he is."

"He is," Jack said, seeming very serious. "In the past three weeks my dear brother has called me eight times. Usually, I'm lucky if he checks in once every few weeks. Don't get me wrong, he puts on a pretence and says he's callin' for this reason or that, but you always manage to creep into the conversation. He didn't seem best pleased with me when I couldn't tell him if you'd settled in alright. Seems to me that you're very important to him."

She felt herself blush a little and tried to hide it by stirring her spoon in her coffee cup. She hadn't actually believed that Atticus would miss her that much. She was certain that his life would return to normalcy once she had been gone for a while. It appeared as though she was wrong.

"Mhmm, no clever comeback," Jack said slyly after a moment. "If I'm right, and I usually am, you've become a little infatuated with my brother. Have you been pining over him all the time you've been away?" He was looking at her but she couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious with her, something he didn't have in common with Atticus. She always knew when Atticus was teasing her.

"I'm not pining over anyone," she shot back childishly, watching Jack's face break into a grin.

"Those rosy cheeks of yours tell a different story, Miss Graham."

She knew he was teasing that time, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him straight on. He was so unlike Atticus, but being around him still made her miss him. She was left wondering if she was being smart staying somewhere that wasn't making her happy when she could return home and maybe find happiness with Atticus. While she wanted to get to know Jack better, she also wanted to just be left alone. Everything was becoming so overwhelming and she just wanted to think. To her luck, it seemed Jack picked up on that.

"All joking aside," he said suddenly, making her jump a little. "I wasn't expecting you to open up to me, I've been told I can be a bit much to handle at first meeting." He cracked a smile at her. "But, from what I can tell, you really do mean a lot to my brother. You seem like a nice girl so I hope maybe he has a chance at somethin' with you. I'm probably being more than bold suggesting this, but if you want to talk about Atticus or anything at all, you know how to reach me," he said kindly, reminding her so much of Atticus. "As much as it's been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Jean, I reckon I should get back. Hopefully I'll see you around," he said, giving her a smile before he left.

Once he was gone, Catherine of course swooped in like a hawk to interrogate her. Jean could only give her short answers, barely even listening to her questions as her thoughts went elsewhere. Having talked to someone who was so connected to Atticus, who was so much a part of him, only made her miss him a thousand times more.

oOoOoOo

She made quick friends with Jack Finch, something she found she was exceptionally glad about. It didn't take him long to figure out how to contact her, something that should have surprised her but strangely didn't, and soon they were meeting at least once a week. He would ask about how things were in Maycomb and how everyone was faring; she would ask what questions she dared about Atticus and about their childhood, not wanting to seem too desperate at bombarding Jack with questions.

However, the longer she spent in the company of Jack, the more she found herself pining for Atticus. Good, old fashioned, honest to God pining. While they weren't very alike, he reminded her enough of him to make her miss him terribly. It was torture for her considering she couldn't talk about him to anyone. All she could do was wonder how different things would be if she hadn't left Maycomb. Would they be together? Or would Atticus have felt uneasy about being with someone such a great deal younger than him? She had days where she was able to convince herself that if she had stayed in Maycomb then she and Atticus would be living in their own little bubble of happiness, and then she had days where her mind convinced her that Atticus probably viewed her as nothing more than something to pass his time with.

Jack was really the one person who had the power to put her mind at ease. He knew Atticus better than anyone and he'd be able to tell her all about Atticus' past and attest to the kind of man he was, but she couldn't bring herself to ask him those sort of questions. She was scared that he'd figure out just how deeply she cared about Atticus, tell him, and make her feel like a complete fool if Atticus said he didn't feel the same anymore. It also didn't help that he had stopped talking about Atticus lately, instead asking more questions about her and all the people in Maycomb. She couldn't help but feel that maybe Atticus had told him that he'd moved on.

Keeping with their new tradition, she met Jack in their usual spot in the park beside the hospital on a Thursday evening. Catherine was convinced that she had started up a secret courtship with him and Jean let her think it. She found she didn't have the energy to explain the real situation to her sister. Complete mayhem would ensue if Catherine knew the truth.

Jack was sitting on a park bench as she approached and looking as always like he didn't have a care in the world. Jean sometimes struggled to believe that he and Atticus were actually brothers. He smiled pleasantly as she approached and slid himself up the bench to allow her to sit down.

"I thought you'd stood me up," he said by way of greeting.

"Sorry," Jean apologised. "I got held up. Kitty thinks we're actually together and was asking me if I'd be bringing you home," she smirked at him. She knew Jack would find some humour in that.

As expected, he laughed so loud that a couple on a neighbouring bench glanced their way. "Your sister has a good sense of humour, I'll give her that!" He said, still smiling. "No offence, honey, but you're not my type."

"None taken. You're not mine, either. I prefer my men a little taller," she replied.

"You're a wild one, Jean Graham," He said with a shake of his head. "Any news from Maycomb?"

As Jean called home to Louise at least twice a week, it sort of became habit for her to then relay to Jack everything that was happening in the town. It was never usually anything of real interest, but he still got joy out of hearing how things were at home.

"Nothin' really. Mama said Mrs Dubose is getting real bad. Doctor Reynolds said she might have to use a wheelchair for the rest of her life," Jean told him. She didn't know Mrs Dubose overly well. She called the odd time for Sunday visiting but usually spent most of it speaking with Louise and the rest of the older ladies.

Jack clicked his tongue. "That's a pity. If I know her, and I do, she'll not take kindly to being inhibited like that. I hope Maycomb is prepared to feel her wrath." He said, laughing a little at his own wit.

"You better not joke. She might specifically request you to come back to Maycomb and take care of her," Jean replied.

"I've never been so thankful to not be fully qualified yet," Jack said, looking up to the sky as if praising God himself.

Usually, the conversation between them both would have kept flowing naturally, but today Jean found herself struggling to steer it where she wanted it to go. She didn't know why she was so nervous about bringing Atticus up, it wasn't as though they hadn't spoken about him before, but she was so nervous about what Jack might say. She felt like she was fifteen years old again.

"Have you heard anything from Atticus?" She finally asked, feeling her heart start to race a little within her.

"Funny you should ask that, he just called me on Tuesday," Jack replied casually.

She waited for him to say more, but he sat in silence. Why was it _that_ had to be what he and Atticus had in common? They both had to be so damn vague most of the time.

"Is he alright?" She prompted him, hoping that Jack would take the hint.

Jack thought for a moment, making her more nervous by the second. Had she been right in thinking that Atticus had told him something she probably wouldn't want to hear?

"I think so," Jack answered her slowly. "Although he did sound a little low, but maybe the connection was bad."

Jean's attention immediately piqued. "Low? How do you mean low? Has somethin' happened?"

Jack turned and looked at her as though she was crazy. "Honey, do I have to spell it out for you? It's because you left." Jean felt her cheeks grow a little hot, something that Jack very quickly picked up on. "I was wondering when those rosy cheeks would join us again," he teased her.

"Why would I have anything to do with it?" She asked him stupidly, not even picking up on his teasing.

"Good God, I thought it was as clear as day! Jean, I take great pride in that I probably know my brother a lot better than anyone else, and while I'm not an expert on the subject, I do believe that my dear brother has fallen in love with you," he told her, a genuine smile pulling on his lips. Jean could only stare dumbly back at him, looking at him as though he had grown a second head. "True, he may not talk about you for the entirety of our phone conversations, but he weaves you in enough to make his feelings quite clear. Asking how you are, if you're happy, settled, how you seemed the last time we spoke. He's very subtle, but when you've known him as long as I have you pick up on that subtly."

Jean opened her mouth to reply, but quickly discovered she didn't even know what to say. She had wanted to hear those words, but once she did it was as though her mind had just went into a fog. Atticus had fallen in love with her?

"You look like I've just told you the secrets of the universe," Jack remarked, looking highly amused. "I find it very difficult to believe that you didn't know that."

"I knew he cared about me, I just didn't want to take it for granted..." She trailed off, not exactly sure what she was trying to say.

"You didn't want to take it for granted that he loved you. Why? Did you think a man as stoic as my brother was incapable of feeling love?" Jack joked with her.

"I'll tell him you said that, then you'll definitely be off his Christmas card list," Jean replied back, finally finding her voice.

Jack gave her a little laugh, but very quickly turned serious again. "Jean, I want to be very serious with you for a moment, and don't look so shocked, I can be serious when the notion takes me. I've watched my brother live the life he has for years. He spends his days at the office and he spends his evenings with his books. While he says that he's more than content with the life he has, I think you would make him very happy. He's never shown interest in any woman before, so you must be very special to him."

This time it was Jean's turn to laugh. "Well, now I know you're joking!. He's nearly forty! I can't be the only one," she continued laughing, thinking of the absurdity of the statement.

"I'm being very serious. There haven't been any. No courtships, nothin'. And yet people call me the strange brother," he smirked and gave her a wink.

While Jack had meant it in a good way, it only made Jean feel a little sorry for Atticus. What must he have been feeling at finally having the chance to start courting someone only to have her move up the country? She couldn't help but suddenly feel very guilty and very annoyed at herself.

"I wish I hadn't left," she half whined, placing her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. "I miss him," she said, letting everything start to trickle out.

"I think he's starting to wish you never left, too," Jack replied, very quietly and very seriously.

She wondered how easily she could get out of Massachusetts. Would Catherine put up a fight if she said she was going back home? She knew she still hadn't settled in the place even when over a month had passed. Jean prayed that Sadie would let her go without a fight. Now more than ever she wanted to be back in Maycomb.

"I think I'm going to go home," she told him, making her mind up on the spot.

"I think he'll be mighty glad to see you," Jack said, smiling at her in a way he hadn't ever done before. "The next time I hear from my brother, I expect him to be telling me to start writing my best man's speech," he teased her and nudged her in the arm. Instead of scowling at his teasing, she smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

Jean met with Jack one last time on a chilly November evening in their usual spot in the park.

"For old times sake," Jack had said over the phone, though they had known each other for little more than a month and a half.

After really thinking about things and talking with her sister, Jean had decided to leave for Maycomb on that coming Wednesday. Catherine hadn't been the least bit shocked or surprised at this announcement, saying that a blind man could see how unsettled Jean was. While she had been a little disappointed at Jean's decision to leave, she was also understanding, agreeing that returning home was the best thing for Jean to do. Jean then noticed how Catherine quickly became eager to get her out of the house, though she decided not to ask. The less she knew the better.

Next came calling her mother to let her know she'd be returning. Strangely, Louise hadn't been surprised either when she heard that Jean would be coming home. She had said something about a "mother's instinct" and had a feeling that her youngest daughter wouldn't take to life up north.

"You hate change, honey. You always have. You're like me that way," Louise had said over the phone. "The South is where you belong and the South is where you'll stay," her mother had then said, and Jean hated admitting that she was probably right.

When she had then called Jack to let him know when she was leaving, he had actually sounded a little upset on the other end and insisted they meet together one last time before she was heading back home, which was why she was now sitting on a park bench in the middle of November and trying not to make it too obvious that she was freezing. She tried to keep talking in order to distract herself from the cold, and she seemed to be doing a good job of it until she noticed Jack staring at her in a way that made her cheeks flame.

"Can you put your eyes back in, please." Jean said, pretending to be offended as she pulled the lapels of her coat together. For the first time since they had met, she saw Jack Finch look embarrassed.

"You're a pretty girl, but it's not what you think," Jack said quickly in defence of himself. "I'm only just noticing your necklace. The charm on it looks almost identical to one my mama used to wear."

Almost automatically her hand was going to hold the little charm on a chain around her neck. It hadn't left her since the day Atticus gave it to her, becoming a source of comfort for her and something that made her feel connected to Atticus. She felt guilty for never before realising that it would have significance for Jack, too.

"It is your mama's," Jean was telling him sheepishly. "Atticus gave it to me before I left. He said it was for luck and your mama gave it to him before he went to Montgomery," she explained, expecting Jack to be angry that she now possessed something that had belonged to his mother. She was therefore a little surprised when he laughed at her.

"I knew my brother was many things, but I've never had him pegged as a sickly romantic," Jack kept laughing, shaking his head in utter disbelief.

Jean couldn't help but look at him as though he were a little crazy. "It's hardly romantic. It was just cause I was leaving. I would have done the same if he had been leaving, probably," she replied, thinking that Jack was making something out of nothing.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry for laughin'," Jack eventually quieted. "But Atticus hasn't been very truthful with you. Mama never gave him that when he went to Montgomery, she gave him a fountain pen with his initials on it. That little charm has never left the Landing since she lived there."

When she only stared at him in disbelief and complete bewilderment, Jack settled himself back against the bench and crossed one leg over his knee, looking as though he was very much going to enjoy telling her what was coming next.

"Let me tell you a little story, Miss Graham," he said, still grinning at her. "My mama came from South Carolina and every year, usually during the summer, she would go to Alabama to visit some family she had there. It happened to be that her family lived not too far from the Landing, so when they had their summer ball or barbecue or whatever else those high society people used to do for fun, my daddy was usually always invited." Jack turned to her to make sure she was still listening, looking pleased when he saw she was. "My daddy met my mama when she was eighteen and he was twenty-two, and fell in love with her almost on the spot. When Mama was leaving at the end of the summer to head back home, he gave her that little shamrock," he pointed again to the chain around her neck, "to make sure she always came back to him. I'm not a romantic, but I don't think it's a coincidence that _that's_ what my brother gave you when you left. You're more special to him than I thought."

Jean sat quietly after Jack had finished speaking, not knowing what she was even supposed to say to that, and feeling as though she would explode with affection for Atticus. If only he knew that she was on her way back to him and when she got there she'd never leave him again.

"Cat got your tongue?" Jack teased her when remained silent.

"Shut up." She gave his shoulder a push. "Why'd you have to go and tell me that? You've made me miss him even more," she then said, though she was smiling at him.

Jack only laughed at her again and pushed her back. "If it helps you two speed things along, then I'm glad. Lord knows my brother could do with havin' a woman in his life. I keep tellin' him he's missing out." He winked and nudged her arm, making her roll her eyes to high heavens.

"Jesus, Jack. We've really been spending too much time with each other if you think I'm gonna talk about that with you," she tried to sound exasperated but found she could only laugh at him.

"Maybe you should stop somewhere and get some silk stockings for him before you go back. I'm pretty certain you'd be married by the end of the week. _I'd_ definitely marry you if you let me see you in silk stockings," Jack kept teasing her.

Jean whacked his arm. "You're the absolute devil, do you know that?"

"I'm just trying to spice things up!" Jack said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Who knows, you could end up thanking me one day."

She whacked his arm once again.

oOoOoOo

It was also Jack who saw her off on the train station platform that Wednesday morning. Catherine was still so busy with her classes that she didn't have time to see her sister off, so Jack kindly agreed, though he did pretend as though escorting her to the train station was a major inconvenience for him.

"A little more warning would have been appreciated, you know. I've had to rearrange my entire schedule just to see you off to make happy families with my brother," he let out a huge dramatic sigh, but it was clear as day he was teasing.

"I appreciate that you took the time and tremendous effort to rearrange your drinking schedule just to see me off. If only everyone was lucky enough to have a friend like you," Jean teased him back as they came to a stop outside the engine that would take her back to Maycomb. Back to Atticus.

"I resent that accusation, Miss Graham," Jack tried to be serious but there was an obvious twinkle in his eye. "I hope this isn't the last I see of you. I think I'm actually a little sad to see you go." He said, sounding as though he actually was upset at seeing her leaving. "Alright," he said with another sigh. "Let's get this over with." He said and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Steady on there, Finch. People might think we're actually friends," Jean teased him, though she did give him a generous squeeze back.

The sound of the train whistle prompted them both to let go and hurry up with their goodbyes. She could have stayed and bantered with Jack a good while longer, but the sooner she got on that train the sooner she'd be back home. Back with Atticus.

Jack then stood before her acting as though nothing had just happened between then, quickly shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. "Go on then. Away with you, you devil," he said and gestured towards the train.

"You're stuck me with now, Jack Finch!" Jean called over her shoulder as she boarded the train. "No matter how things go, I'll be back up here to torture you more when the notion strikes me!"

"Did I forget to tell you that I'm movin'? To somewhere in Europe where you'll never find me!" Jack called to her as she found her compartment and stuck her head out through the window.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll find you! You won't shake me off that easily!" Jean shouted back as the train began to move. She watched Jack in the distance until he was just a speck before settling back into her seat.

Soon she'd be home, soon she'd be with Atticus.

oOoOoOo

The train journey back to Maycomb seemed to be the longest one she had ever taken, but a few hours later she was finally pulling into the station and climbing into the town's sole taxi for the final stretch home. As they drove through the town, she was nearly telling the driver to stop outside Atticus' office she was so desperate to see him. Though, no matter how strong her desire to see him was, she knew her mother would skin her if she didn't go home first.

So, she said nothing and let the taxi carry on towards the main residential street. As she had expected, Louise was sitting on the porch waiting for her when the car pulled up. She was silent as Jean helped the driver take her bags up the steps, but once everything was in and he drove off, she was pulling her youngest daughter into a tight embrace.

"Oh, baby, it's good to have you back!" Louise said, still holding onto her like a life raft. "I hope you never think of leavin' me again. I didn't realise how lonely it would be having both of you gone."

Jean then felt a little bad. She'd barely given her mother a lot of thought while she had been up north, assuming that Louise was getting by just fine and enjoying having some peace and quiet. She hadn't actually thought that her mother would be lonely.

"Mama, I promise I won't be going anywhere anytime soon. It was horrible up there. I don't know how Kitty is sticking through with it," Jean assured her, letting her mother take her through to the kitchen where she would no doubt be interrogated.

In the kitchen, Louise had already set the table for tea and practically pushed Jean into a chair to start asking her about Massachusetts. She asked about boring things like the weather, the people, the house they had lived in, the job she had gotten herself, but it quickly became clear what Louise really wanted to know about her time up north.

"You came home alone," she pointed out.

Jean couldn't help but look a little confused. "Yeah? You knew I was coming on my own. Kitty still has classes until Christmas," she explained slowly, wondering if her mother's memory was really that bad.

Her mother placed her cup of tea on the table. "That's not what I meant. Are you courting anyone yet?" Louise decided to just come out with it. Jean had forgotten about her mother's insistence she find a suitable man to settle down with while she was away.

"I think I'm starting to see where Kitty gets her subtleness from," Jean said with a smirk, though quickly trying to figure out what to say to her mother. "But, no. Not...not yet," she answered slowly.

Louise pursed her lips at her, disappointment radiating off her. "Jean, you're twenty! It's high time you stopped fooling around. You remember Marcy? The little thing who's doll house you were jealous off? She got engaged last week. To a doctor," she said.

"Mama, breathe." Jean said, holding her hands up. "I meant there is someone...I just don't know yet if we're courting. Officially," she explained, watching her mother visibly relax.

She had half expected her mother to keep pushing her until she cracked, but Louise instead picked up her cup again and smiled at her.

"I knew you'd find someone. You might have hated it up there, but it might have been the best thing you ever decided to do," she said, looking at her daughter with thinly concealed pride in her eyes.

Rather than correct her and say it wasn't someone she had met up north, Jean let Louise think what she wanted. It would be easier that way to finally escape her and get to see Atticus. Just as Jean had been about to say she was going to head downtown, Louise found another round of questions to throw at her, making her inwardly groan. All she wanted was to see Atticus. When Louise began asking questions she had already asked at least twice before, Jean saw her opportunity and said she really needed to head into town and see Mr Finch, just to make sure she still had a job if she wanted it.

"I haven't seen anyone else in that office of his," Louise informed her, not noticing her daughter's smile. "Maybe you'll be lucky."

"Maybe I will be. Very lucky," Jean replied with a smirk, giving her mother a kiss on the cheek before she headed downtown.

She half ran through the streets once she managed to get out of the house, feeling a mixture of things as she went. She felt nervous about what she hoped would happen that evening, she felt sheer excitement at getting to see Atticus again, and there was still that faint worry that maybe Jack had been wrong about everything, though she tried hard to block out that little voice.

A faint light came from Atticus' office as she approached, making her heart do another little flip. She hoped he was as excited to see her as she was to see him, and she hoped he would like what she had brought him back. She had put a lot of thought into it.

Her desk was in its usual place as she entered the office, informing her that not much had changed in the time she had been away, and Atticus was standing with his back to her at his filing cabinet when she peeked her head around his office door. Feeling a little playful, she quietly crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, making him jump so violently he practically threw the file in his hand across the room.

"Hey, you," she said lightly as he wheeled around, a little pink and trying his best not to look too flustered.

When the initial shock of believing he was being assaulted wore off and he saw who was actually behind him, he smiled so widely it made her heart do that stupid little flip again. She had missed his smile.

"Jean! What are you...? I thought you weren't back until next month?" Atticus asked, still grinning at her like an excited child at Christmas. If there had been any remaining doubt in her mind that he had missed her, it was certainly gone with the reception she got from him.

Jean shrugged and perched herself on his desk. "Well, Jack told me that your office was falling apart without me, so naturally I got on the first train home to make sure the place was still standing," she teased him.

Atticus' smile faltered just a fraction. "So, you're going back?"

"Not if you paid me," she told him seriously. "I don't know how your brother sticks it up there, but I hated it from the minute I got off the train."

Atticus looked as though he had been expecting her answer, nodding his head a little. "Jack did say that he didn't think you'd settled. I told him you just needed some time."

"You could give me all the time in the world and I still wouldn't like it. Alabama is where I'm supposed to be," she said firmly, echoing Louise's earlier words. She saw his lips twitch a little, almost as if he was fighting a smile, and it made her remember something; the little shamrock around her neck.

Feeling a little jittery, she decided to change topic completely and tell him in a complete rush all about how things had been up north, desperately trying to rid herself of her nerves. Atticus listened intently, still smiling at her, still gazing at her in a way that was making her heart do nothing but jolt when she met his eye. He laughed when she told him of the various mishaps and little slips that had happened while she was working in a little cafe just outside Boston, laughed so hard that she could see the little crinkles forming by his eyes, and she wanted to make him laugh forever.

When he asked what had made her stay as long as she did when she wasn't comfortable, the little silver shamrock suddenly felt very heavy around her neck. She could only hope that Jack really had been telling her the truth about it and it wasn't just some story to make her make a fool of herself. She guessed now was as good a time as any to find out.

"Your brother," Jean answered him, bringing the conversation back to Jack. "I really only enjoyed myself when I was talkin' to him. He's always full of interesting little stories and anecdotes, isn't he?" She fought the urge to smirk at him.

They both only stared at each other for a moment. Atticus trying to figure out what she could possibly mean by "stories and anecdotes"; Jean trying to silently convey that she knew something that gave her the upper hand. She could see the wheels in Atticus' brain spinning furiously at trying to figure out what she was referring to, but he seemed to draw a blank.

"I'm afraid I don't..." He trailed off, looking at her as though trying to figure her out.

She pulled the chain around her neck up so that the little charm was catching the light, and still Atticus' face remained blank. "How did you say you got this charm?" She asked innocently.

"My mama gave it to me when I went to Montgomery. It belonged to her mama. It was passed down to her," he replied as she had expected.

Jean shook her head at him. "That's not what Jack told me. He told me your daddy gave it to her. Somethin' about making sure she always came back to him here. I'd tell you the whole story but I think you know it."

In front of her, Atticus went faintly pink, and she knew Jack had been telling the truth. "My brother always was one for makin' up stories. I assure you that was given to me by my mama when I went to Montgomery," he said, laughing nervously.

"Are you always this stubborn?" She teased him.

"I would hardly say I'm being stubborn," he shot back.

"Well, I would," she teased him again, finally letting herself smile at him. "I'll get you to admit to it someday, don't worry," Jean said lightly, letting the chain fall back around her neck, and watching Atticus fight to keep a straight face.

There was silence between them then, but it wasn't awkward. Jean shifted on his desk and watched him pick up the file he had dropped. She continued staring at his back while he busied himself in his filing cabinet, silently trying to build up the courage to keep going with the main reason she had come to his office.

"I brought you somethin' back from Massachusetts," Jean finally broke the silence, feeling her heart start to speed up rapidly.

"Oh? And what was that?" Atticus asked, turning back to face her. "I have a feelin' it's not going to be the fountain pen Jack stole from me the last time he was here," he joked.

"Well, now you've just gone and spoiled it," she replied, causing him to laugh a little at her. "C'mere," she said, turning a little coy.

He looked a little confused, but closed the filing cabinet and approached her. She shifted on his desk again to ready herself, feeling as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest. When he was finally close enough, she hopped off his desk and quickly stretched herself up to kiss him. He tensed ever so slightly at being taken by surprise, but quickly, and very enthusiastically, he kissed her back.

When they broke apart, Jean could only smirk at him. "You know, if you'd kissed me like that before I'd left, I never would have gone," she said as he adjusted his arms around her waist.

"I didn't want to be the reason you stayed," Atticus answered seriously.

"Who's been feeding your ego since I've been away?" She teased him, giving him another quick kiss. "Oh, before I forget," she kissed his cheek, "that's from Jack. Who had a very different idea about what I should bring you back."

Atticus rolled his eyes a fraction. "I can only imagine what Jack..."

"Silk stockings," she quickly interrupted him, causing him to clear his throat. "But I thought you'd enjoy my idea, more."

"Well..." He teased, earning him a soft whack to his upper arm.

"Behave, you."

He laughed again at her, making her realise there was no sound she enjoyed more, and pulled her even closer to him as he did. She heard him then take a deep breath as though he'd been building himself up for whatever was coming next for a while, and she waited.

"I realised somethin' when you were gone," he eventually murmured, resting his forehead on hers.

"What was that? That I'm a complete Godsend and your office actually was falling apart without me?" Jean teased him.

She saw him smile. "Well, that too, but I realised that...that I've fallen in love with you," he practically whispered at her.

Her heart gave an enormous flip and she felt her cheeks grow hot. She hadn't realised what it would be like to hear those words until she did, and she loved him even more.

"Well, I'm mighty glad to hear that," she was grinning from ear to ear now. "Because I love you too," she said, making him smile at her in return. "And I'll always come back to you. Always."

And she kissed him once more.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I Surrender, Dear](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17576780) by [christalhearsawho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christalhearsawho/pseuds/christalhearsawho)




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